“With a reservation,” he continued. “There is a wing of the house which you are never to enter. That wing looks into the Queen Anne garden—you are, therefore, never to go into the Queen Anne garden.”
“Never, Adrian, never?”
“Never, darling.”
“Why so?”
“I meant to keep the reason from you,” said Rowton; “but I must tell it—there is a reason.”
“Yes?” she said again. She began to tremble.
“You heard Murray speak of his mother last night,” continued the man, standing very upright as he spoke, folding his arms and looking down at Nancy’s slim young figure.
“Yes,” she replied.
“The boy’s mother lives in that wing.”
“What?” cried Nancy.