“Did she tell you that she was leaving The Sanctuary?”
“She gave me not the slightest intimation of it,” Francis assured his questioner, “in fact she invited me to meet her in the rose garden last night. When I arrived there, she was gone. I have heard nothing from her since.”
“You spent the evening with her?”
“To my great content.”
“What happened between you?”
“Nothing happened. I took the opportunity, however, of letting your daughter understand the nature of my feelings for her.”
“Dear me! May I ask what they are?”
“I will translate them into facts,” Francis replied. “I wish your daughter to become my wife.”
“You amaze me!” Sir Timothy exclaimed, with the old mocking smile at his lips. “How can you possibly contemplate association with the daughter of a man whom you suspect and distrust as you do me?”
“If I suspect and distrust you, it is your own fault,” Francis reminded him. “You have declared yourself to be a criminal and a friend of criminals. I am inclined to believe that you have spoken the truth. I care for that fact just as little as I care for the fact that you are a millionaire, or that Margaret has been married to a murderer. I intend her to become my wife.”