Miss Mason’s keen old eyes looked from one to the other of them.
“And what, my dear,” she said, “did you know of him?”
Sybil gave a little sob. “He—he was my husband,” she said.
There was a dead silence in the room. Then Miss Mason put a question. It seemed forced from her:
“Did you have a child?”
Sybil bowed her head.
“Shall I go away?” asked Barnabas.
“No, stay,” said Sybil. “I suppose you guessed something the moment I came to claim the ring. Since you knew Philippe you must have known it belonged to him. You had better hear the story. God knows what I am going to do now.” Her lips quivered. She looked like a piteous, frightened child.
“My dear,” said Miss Mason gently, “if there is any way in which we can help you, we will. Tell us as much as you can.”
Sybil drew a long breath. She looked at Miss Mason. She tried to forget that Barnabas was present, though she wished him to remain.