“What'll I say if he comes?”
“Say she's gone out to meet him—if he thinks that, he'll hurry back to wherever they were to meet. Don't give him a chance to get in. Hurry!”
“Right,” said Wilfred, obeying. He sat down in a hall chair, and took up a paper, with an eye wary for Eliza. Half an hour passed tediously, while upstairs Cecilia begged and bribed in vain. Then he sprang to his feet as a ring came.
Bob was at the door; and suddenly Wilfred realized that he had always been afraid of Bob. He quailed inwardly, for never had he seen his half-brother look as he did now—with a kind of still, terrible anger in his eyes.
“Where's Cecilia?”
“Gone out,” said the boy.
“Where?”
“Gone to meet you.”
“Did she tell you so?”
“Yes, of course—how'd I know if she didn't?”