"I know it," he said. "I hate the place and its dreadful associations. But I wanted to see Chris first. Did she say anything about me before—before—"
"My dear boy, she loved you always. She knew and understood, and was sorry. And she never, never forgot the last time that you were in the house."
Frank Littimer glanced across the room with a shudder. His eyes dwelt with fascination on the overturned table with its broken china and glass and wilted flowers in the corner.
"It is not the kind of thing to forget," he said, hoaresly. "I can see my father now—"
"Don't," Enid shuddered, "don't recall it. And your mother has never been the same since. I doubt if she will ever be the same again. From that day to this nothing has ever been touched in the house. And Henson comes here when he can and makes our lives hideous to us."
"I fancy I shook him up to-night," Littimer said, with subdued triumph.
"He seemed to shudder when I told him that I had found Van Sneck."
Enid started from her chair. Her eyes were shining with the sudden brilliancy of unveiled stars.
"You have found Van Sneck!" she whispered. "Where?"
"Why, in the Brighton Hospital. Do you mean to say that you don't know about it, that you don't know that the man found so mysteriously in Mr. David Steel's house and Van Sneck are one and the same person?"
Enid resumed her seat again. She was calm enough now.