Vane Trevor, looking a little amazed, repeated—
“I’m to say, you said you had reason to know?”
“Yes, and—and—I think he’ll understand—and if he should not, you may say—a—yes, you may, it has reached me through Henbane.”
“I beg pardon—through what?” said Vane Trevor, inclining his ear.
“Henbane,” said Miss Perfect very sharply.
“Henbane?”
“Yes.”
“By Jove!” exclaimed Trevor.
A considerable silence ensued, during which a variety of uncomfortable misgivings respecting the state of Miss Perfect’s mind floated through his own. He concluded, however, that there was some language of symbols established between Miss Perfect and her nephew, in which Henbane stood for some refractory trustee, or rich old uncle.
So he said, more like himself—