"Well, it's all over now," he said, "and I am glad she is married. But let us talk about yourself. Are you happy after all your troubles, dearest?"
"Very happy, Giles. I regret nothing. Portia, thanks to you, is in a good home. But my poor father——"
"Don't call Denham that, Anne," he said, with a frown.
She kissed it away.
"He was always very good to me," she said. "I tried to save him, as you know. I believed that he had killed Daisy by some mistake. But really, Giles, I did not stop to think. I knew that my—I mean Denham—was in danger of his life, and I could not rest until I had placed him in safety."
"And you defended him afterwards, Anne—that time we met in the churchyard. You quite endorsed his story of the invented Walter Franklin."
"Don't reproach me, Giles. I had promised Denham to say what I did; and not even for your dear sake could I break my word. He was a good man in many ways; but, as you say yourself, it is all over. Let us forget him and his tragic end."
"And Morley's."
Anne shivered. "He was the worst. Oh, what a terrible time I had on board that boat, when I found he was deceiving me. I thought he was taking me to Denham, and I wanted to see what he—I mean Denham—would say to my mother's statement. I thought he might be able to show that he was not so bad as she——"
"Not another word," said Ware, taking her in his arms. "Let us leave the old bad past alone, and live in the present. See"—he took a parcel out of his pocket—"I have had this made for you."