His eye was now steadily fixed upon her, coldly scrutinising, as one regards a suspected stranger. Adela was made wretched by the inevitable falsehood. She felt herself reddening under his gaze.
He seemed to fall into absent-mindedness, then re-read the document. Then he took out his watch.
‘The people are out of church. Come and show me where it was.’
With a deep sense of relief she went away to put on her bonnet. To escape for a moment was what she needed, and the self-command of his voice seemed to assure her against her worst fears. She felt grateful to him for preserving his dignity. The future lost one of its terrors if only she could respect him.
They walked side by side to the church in silence: Mutimer had put the will into his pocket. At the wicket he paused.
‘Will Wyvern be in there?’
The question was answered by the appearance of the vicar himself, who just then came forth from the front doorway. He approached them, with a hope that Adela had not been obliged to leave through indisposition.
‘A little faintness,’ Mutimer was quick to reply. ‘We are going to look for something she dropped in the pew.’
Mr. Wyvern passed on. Only the pew-opener was moving about the aisles. She looked with surprise at the pair as they entered.
‘Tell her the same,’ Mutimer commanded, under his breath.