"Geoffrey did: Ruth had told him."
Mrs. Marshall rose with a bound. "And pray what has Mr. Heron to do with this matter?"
"A good deal," rejoined her brother, drily. "You may as well sit down, Inez. Geoffrey is perfectly discreet. He is going to marry Ruth, you know: it will be as much to his interest as mine to keep this affair secret. Well, so you met this gypsy blackguard?"
"Yes, half-way on the road to the Turnpike House. In spite of the darkness and the mist, he knew me in a moment--instinct, I suppose."
"How could he have met you? Had you met him before?"
"Lots of times. I knew the Romany dialect, and used to talk to Job."
"I realty wonder at you, Inez, taking up with such scum! As for Ruth, I'll talk to her! She shall have nothing more to do with him."
"Oh, as to that," remarked his sister, shrugging her shoulders, "the creature is dying; he is consumptive, and is drinking himself to death. I have placed him in the Turnpike House--without Mr. Heron's permission, by the way--and I allow him a small sum a week so that he may die in peace."
"So that you may keep your secret, you mean."
"It will soon be a secret no longer. Job, as I say, knew me. He told me that he had been sleeping behind the hedge--near me, I suppose--and had been aroused by the sound of voices. He recognised Frank's voice, for he had often spoken to him; but Jenner he did not know, any more than I did."