It was indeed Portia. Seeing that she was discovered, she sprang from the bed and faced Giles with a sullen, defiant look on her freckled face. Still standing in the strong light which poured in through the window, Ware looked at the girl satirically.
"You are a very clever mimic, Miss Franklin," said he, "but you rather forgot yourself in that last speech. Anne is of too sensitive a nature to have explained herself with such a wealth of detail."
"You were deceived at first," grumbled Portia, rocking herself.
"Only for a moment," replied Giles. "And now I should like to know the meaning of this masquerade?"
"I also," cried Franklin, in his turn. He was staring at his daughter with a look of profound amazement. "Where is Anne, you wretched girl?"
"She has run away."
"Run away!" exclaimed the men simultaneously.
"Yes. After your finding out last night that she had killed Daisy Kent she was afraid to stop. She knew that you hated her father, and thought you might hand her over to the police. Last night she told me so, and said she would run away. I love Anne, and I let her do as she liked. It was I who let her out," ended Portia, defiantly.
"Anne should not have so mistrusted me," cried Franklin, much perturbed. "Surely I always protected her, and treated her well."
"Ah, but you didn't know till last night that she was guilty."