And Mary, already moving away toward the bedrooms, added then, in a colorless sort of way:—
"Who do you suppose telephoned me from there?"
"Who telephoned?—I don't know—"
She paused, half turned, looked back at him, hesitated, and then spoke but a single word:—
"Donald."
Brief though the reply was, it was sufficient to plant Charles Garrott's feet permanently upon the earth.
After an interval, with movements purely mechanical, he sought for his watch. It was quarter past six. And he understood everything then.
XXI
Charles thought that he understood everything now. In so far as he built a theory on the cold Argument from Design, he understood, of course, nothing whatever. The truth was that Angela had had other things than Mr. Manford to think of to-day. That she had gone out in her Fordette at all was only by the merest chance.