“Oh, by all means. You had just landed from India?”
“Miss Dalrymple allowed Hugh no communication. He could not even find out where she went when she left London. It seemed to me that he had a right to learn her reasons for dismissal, and I assured him when I quitted him that he should hear from me if I had any news of her whereabouts.”
“I could not have believed that Lady Dalrymple’s servants were so above suspicion.” Mrs Martyn heaved a sigh at recollection of her own.
He went on to say that finding Miss Dalrymple had crossed in the same boat with himself, he telegraphed to Hugh from Stavanger. He knew of no other course he could have taken. And he descanted on it, intending all to be told to Anne. He finished up by repeating that no idea of Hugh’s coming had crossed his mind.
“I dare say not. Magnanimity has limits,” she murmured.
Thinking it well to turn a deaf ear, he added that he had written a letter of some importance to Mr Forbes from Stalheim.
“From Stalheim?” She appeared to meditate, looking at her own hands, which were very small. Then her question flashed out.
“Was it to say you were in love with Anne?”
Wareham had got himself in hand by this time. He bowed.
“That or anything else you please, Mrs Martyn.”