“Did he know about the handkerchief?” said Miss Crokerly.
“He must have done. He—he—he was at the temple the same time as I. If only he had spoken sincerely! But it was simply to further the schemes of an ambitious man.”
When they got home Miss Crokerly went up with Rosalie to bed. A fire was burning brightly in the bedroom.
“Rosalie, did you ever know Mr. Barringcourt before you met him at the Sebberens’?”
“Yes, indeed. I stayed in his house nearly a week. I met him first in the sacred place of the temple.”
“Why were you staying at his house?”
Rosalie looked at her with the look of fear and pain in her eyes that had haunted them half the night.
“If I tell you, you’ll never repeat it, even to your brother?”
“No.”
“Well, I was born dumb, and I remained dumb till I was twenty-two, and then he cured me completely, just as I am now.”