He looked at her thoughtfully.
"What were you and Sir Edward—I call him that for want of a better name—talking about last night—out yonder in the moonlight?" he asked.
"WHAT WERE YOU AND SIR EDWARD TALKING ABOUT LAST NIGHT?"
HE ASKED.
She laughed, a little guiltily—watching his face the while.
"He was making love to me," she replied—"he does it very well, indeed, sir."
"So it would seem," said the Governor—"so well, indeed, that you sought at once to regain the Catherwood letter, but, thinking that I had retired, came back the first thing, this morning."
She flushed, and her eyes went toward the window.
"Just so!" he said. "I was sitting there, and saw it all—saw you leave, heard you come to my door and listen, saw you return, a moment, to him—and, now, you come again—and it is for the letter. You know that he is not Parkington, that he is an impostor—consequently, he must have told you something which explains. What was it?"