Mr. Renford gravely scrutinised the pretty, anxious face which was raised to his, and shook his head.
"I am afraid not," he answered. "Have you spent all the afternoon with him, Felicia?"
"Yes, grandfather. I don't think I've tired him; he says I've done him good."
"That's well." Mr. Renford laid his hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes as he asked without any preamble: "Have you had anything to do with the gipsies on the common?"
"I—I—" stammered the little girl, turning suddenly white, whilst a scared expression settled on her face; "I—I ought to have told—"
"Answer me 'yes' or no,'" he said sternly; "don't try to prevaricate. I repeat my question. Have you had anything to do with the gipsies on the common?"
"Yes, grandfather, I—"
"Enough! You have disobeyed me." He pushed her from him angrily and pointed to the door. "Go!" he commanded.
She moved away from him, her legs shaking, a choking sensation in her throat.
"Wait a moment," he said as she reached the door. Then, as she paused, he asked in a gentler tone: "Did you forget that I had told you not to go near the common?"