“You told him that you had sent for Mr. C. to come and go through your father’s papers.”
“What of it?”
“I cannot tell you any more!”
Wolfenden rose to his feet; he was still giddy, but he was able to stand.
“All that he told me here was a tissue of lies then! Helène, I will not leave you with such a man. You cannot continue to live with him.”
“I do not intend to,” she answered; “I want to get away. What has happened to-day is more than I can pardon, even from him. Yet you must not judge him too harshly. In his way he is a great man, and he is planning great things which are not wholly for his advantage. But he is unscrupulous! So long as the end is great, he believes himself justified in stooping to any means.”
Wolfenden shuddered.
“You must not live another day with him,” he exclaimed; “you will come to Deringham Hall. My mother will be only too glad to come and fetch you. It is not very cheerful there just now, but anything is better than leaving you with this man.”
She looked at him curiously. Her eyes were soft with something which suggested pity, but resembled tears.