“No,” he said to himself, with an attempt to be firm, “he could not have seen me; but was it after all Pradelle I struck down?”
A chill shot through him.
The locket torn from his watch-chain?
“Why, Harry dear, you seem quite upset.”
“Upset—I—yes, it is so sudden. I am a bit—there, I’m all right now.”
“Poor Madelaine! she must be in sad trouble.”
Greater than the speaker realised.
She was in the dining-room with the elder Vine, and hung for a few moments on Louise’s neck to sob forth her troubles when she entered. Then, without a word or look at Harry, she hurried up-stairs.
“Why did you not speak to her, Harry?” whispered Louise.
He made no reply, but sat listening to his father, his eyes dilated and throat dry.