He closed abruptly, his hand trembling, the perspiration beading his brow. His eyes fell and the woman Rita stood before them, a look of ineffable sadness and tenderness upon her face.
"Will you retire now, Master Gerald?" she said, gently. Without a word he turned and left the room. She was about to follow when Edward, excited and touched by the scene he had witnessed and full of discoveries, stopped her with an imperious gesture.
For a moment he paced the room. Rita was motionless, awaiting with evident nervousness his pleasure. He came and stood before her, and, looking her steadily in the face, said, abruptly:
"Woman, what is the name of that young man, and what is mine?"
She drew back quickly and her lips parted in a gasp.
"My God!" he heard her whisper.
"I demand an answer! You carry the secret of one of us—probably both. Which is the son of Marion Evans?"
She sank upon her knees and hid her face in her apron.
It was all true, then. Edward felt as though he himself would sink down beside her if the silence continued.
"Say it," he said, hoarsely; "say it!"