"Where?" And falling back into his previous manner—"I took it to the chapel yard. I knew they would not go there. There was space enough behind the—the head-stone and the old wall for it to stand, and the grass grew long and thick. I left it there."
"It was a safe place," she answered. "When shall you bring it back?"
He sighed impatiently.
"Not yet," he said. "Not just yet. Let it stay there a while. I am not—ready for it. Let it stay."
CHAPTER XXXVI. SETTLING AN ACCOUNT.
It was not until the week following that Haworth returned, and then he came without having given any previous warning of his intention. Ffrench, sitting in his office in a rather dejected mood one morning, was startled by his entering with even less than his usual small ceremony.
"My dear Haworth," he exclaimed. "Is it possible!"
His first intention had been to hold out his hand, but he did not do so. In fact he sat down again a little suddenly and uneasily. Haworth sat down too, confronting him squarely.