“My sister.”
“And why did he speak in that strange way about her?”
Rowton did not answer for a while.
“Nancy,” he said then, “this is our first night at home, is it not?”
“Yes,” she said, surprised at his tone.
“Now I am not going to say anything harsh.”
“No,” she answered, “but I don’t think I much mind if you do.”
“Ah! my little woman,” he said, suddenly clasping her to him in a fierce embrace, “I knew you had a spirit of your own: now I am going to remind you of something. Do you remember the compact we made each with the other on the day of your father’s death?”
Her face turned very white.