‘There, my man; that’s for your trouble all a dark night.’
‘Thank you, sir—thanks to you,’ said the boy as the chaise rattled off.
Anne turned and came down the little walk to meet Dick; her gown brushed the dew from the overgrown rose-bushes in showers as she passed. She came towards him silently, her face tear-stained, tragic. Dick held out both hands to her, but before he could speak Anne checked him with an upraised hand.
‘God’s spoke to me, Dick,’ she said, stopping before him like an avenging angel.
‘I have come to tell you everything,’ said poor Dick; and at that moment he drank the dregs of a bitter cup, ‘for I knew you guessed something when I left you.’
‘God spoke to me in a dream,’ repeated Anne. ‘When I waked up I knew for sure you had lied to me.’
‘Yes, Anne, I lied,’ he said, almost in a whisper.
‘About Sebastian?’
‘Yes.’
‘An’ he never played me false, nor married a Dutch wife?’