"Yes."
"May I see him?"
Simon's look wavered and his eyes sank under hers. His attempt to deceive was manifest, plain as the Writing on the Wall.
"Oh not now," he said, striving for an air that should restore her confidence, "you can't see anyone now, you know."
But her suspicions were past allaying, though she swerved swiftly to another question.
"The fire," she demanded. "Do they know what caused the fire?"
"Oh, some carelessness, doubtless. Mrs. St. Ives may have dropped a match."
Once more Rachel half lifted herself. She shook her head, scanning him fixedly.
"Annie was asleep—the cottage locked. Simon, is it known who set that fire?"
He gasped, unable to believe the astonishing thing: she was actually taking the facts from his mind. He opened his lips, but she needed no answer.