"You know that I am innocent," said Lesbia, clenching her hands; "I dare you to say that I am not."
"You are your father's accomplice."
"That is untrue," broke in Lord Charvington smoothly, "Lesbia warned me that the jewels would be stolen."
"Of course," scoffed his wife triumphantly, "she knew!"
"If I had been in league with my father would I have given the warning?"
"Yes," said Lady Charvington, rising to confront Lesbia, who had asked the question. "My husband showed me the letter purporting to come from some man in London. It said that the burglary was arranged for Thursday, and by telling my husband that, he thought he might safely leave the house and go to London to engage a detective, while your father robbed the house on Wednesday. It's a well-arranged business."
"I don't know why the burglary took place on Wednesday," said Lesbia steadily; "the letter I gave Lord Charvington is perfectly true. I can't explain further than I have done."
"Because you can't; because you can't," taunted Lady Charvington, "but you shall leave my house in disgrace."
Lord Charvington caught his wife's wrist. "Lesbia shall return to her home this day," he said imperiously, "because I won't have her stopping here to be insulted by you. Bertha will say nothing of what she overheard, as I have forbidden her to speak on the pain of instant dismissal. You also, Helen, shall hold your tongue."
"I will do nothing of the sort," breathed Lady Charvington vindictively.