“These are Miss Morley's. Take them to her room.”
The maid retired to obey orders. Hephzy again turned to me.
“Now, Hosy, what is it?” she asked.
I told her the whole story. When I had finished Hephzy nodded understandingly. She did not say “I told you so,” but if she had it would have been quite excusable.
“I think—I think, perhaps, I had better go up and see her,” she said.
“All right. I have no objection.”
“But she'll ask questions, of course. What shall I tell her?”
“Tell her I changed my mind. Tell her—oh, tell her anything you like. Don't bother me. I'm sick of the whole business.”
She left me and I went into the Reverend Cole's study and closed the door. There were books enough there, but the majority of them were theological works or bulky volumes dealing with questions of religion. Most of my own books were in my room. These did not appeal to me; I was not religiously inclined just then.
So I sat dumbly in the rector's desk chair and looked out of the window. After a time there was a knock at the door.