Mr. Stirling turned the leaf, turned three or four leaves, all with Mariette scrawled on them. Mariette had evidently been the French chamber-maid, and equally evidently had detained Geoff's vagrant eye.
Another page. A man leaning back in his chair laughing. Dick Le Geyt was written under it.
"Is it like him?" asked Mr. Stirling.
"It's him," said Janey.
Yet another page. They both looked in silence at the half-dozen masterly strokes with Mrs. Le Geyt written under them.
"It is unmistakable," Mr. Stirling said. "It is not only she, but it is no one else."
His eyes met Janey's. She nodded.
He closed the little book, put its elastic band round it, and squeezed it into his pocket.
"Why did you bring that to show me?" she said harshly. It seemed as if he had come to tempt her.