"I've listened to you, Donica, and I can't comprehend you. I see you are hinting at something; but unless you are explicit, I don't see that I can be of any earthly use."
"You can, my lady—that is, you may, if you only do as I say—I can't explain it more, nor I won't," said Donica, peremptorily, perhaps bitterly.
"There can be no good reason, Donica, for reserve upon a point of so much moment as you describe this to be. Wherever reserve exists there is mystery, and wherever mystery—guilt."
So said Lady Alice, who was gifted with a spirit of inquiry which was impatient of disappointment.
"Guilt, indeed!" repeated Gwynn, in an under-key, with a toss of her head and a very white face; "there's secrets enough in the world, and no guilt along of 'em."
"What room is it you speak of—the green chamber, is not it?"
"Yes, sure, my lady."
"I think you are all crazed about ghosts and devils over there," exclaimed Lady Alice.
"Not much of ghosts, but devils, maybe," muttered Gwynn, oddly, looking sidelong over the floor.
"It is that room, you say," repeated Lady Alice.