“If you’ll put the boy to bed,” he said, “I’ll—wait.”
He sat down by the fire, a grim look of patient endurance on his face. In the room above he could hear the light tread of Barbara’s feet, and Jimmy’s high, childish treble upraised in excited speech.
“He’s telling her all he knows,” muttered Jarvis, a sick distaste for his own hateful task coming over him.
It was long before Barbara returned. Jarvis had decided that she wished him to go away without speaking, when he heard her re-enter the room.
He sprang to his feet.
“Sit down, won’t you? And let me—explain.”
Barbara lifted her head proudly.
“I think I—understand,” she said.
He gazed steadily at her, a frown of pain between his brows.