“To be sure. Poor lady! She has been confiding to me while you were chatting with little Julia about the piano.”
Bayle gave an angry stamp.
“And your careful management of the remains of her husband’s property.”
Bayle knit his brow and increased his pace.
“No, no,” cried Sir Gordon, snatching at and taking his arm. “No running away from unpleasant truths, Christie Bayle. You paid the counsel for Hallam’s defence, did you not?”
Bayle nodded shortly, and uttered an angry ejaculation.
“And there was not a shilling left when Hallam was gone?”
No answer.
“Come, come, speak. I am going to have the truth, my friend: priesthood and deception must not go hand in hand. Now then, did Hallam have any money?”
“If he had it would have been handed over to Dixons’ Bank,” said Bayle sharply. “I should have seen it done.”