"You mean," Jack asked, "that Martin sent them away to bring up the child?"
Mrs. Kesserich turned away. "Yes."
Jack asked incredulously, "He trusted the child with the two people he suspected of having caused the mother's death?"
"Once when I was his assistant," Mrs. Kesserich said softly, "I carelessly broke some laboratory glassware. He kept me up all night building a new setup, though I'm rather poor at working with glass and usually get burned. Bringing up the child was his sisters' punishment."
"And they went to that house on the farthest island? I suppose it was the house he'd been building for Mary and himself."
"Yes."
"And they were to bring up the child as his daughter?"
Mrs. Kesserich started up, but when she spoke it was as if she had to force out each word. "As his wife—as soon as she was grown."
"How can you know that?" Jack asked shakily.
The rising wind rattled the windowpane.