“I was sure that these things would distress you,” he said in the low voice of sympathy. “Perhaps you would prefer to send Sarah to the housekeeper’s room while you look at the documents I have brought.”
Violet, in whose brain a hundred wild questions as to her sister’s life were jostling, suddenly faced Jenny again. “What was my sister’s baby called?” she asked.
“Henry, miss, after its father.”
“But why ‘Henry,’ since the father’s name was Johann?”
“That is a puzzle, miss. I’m only tellin’ you what I know.”
“And what became of the child? Why was it spirited away from its mother? or was it not taken away until after her death?”
Jenny had been told to be close as an oyster on this matter. “I don’t know why the baby was sent out to nurse, miss,” she said. “I can only tell you it was never in the flat.”
Violet passed a hand across her eyes as though to clear a bewildered brain. This domestic lived in a small flat with her sister, who “gossiped” for “hours” with her, yet the girl knew little about a child which Gwen must have idolized.
“Then you never saw the baby?” she asked.