She pressed his hand in silence.
"I'm going up to talk with him now," he said. "I'm going to do what I can with him. You go in and talk. And don't let them see that anything is wrong."
The door had not been locked again. He entered at the call of Terry and found him leaning over the hearth stirring up the pile of charred paper to make it burn more freely. A shadow crossed the face of Terry as he saw his visitor, but he banished it at once and rose to greet him. In his heart Vance was a little moved. He went straight to the younger man and took his hand.
"Elizabeth has told me," he said gently, and he looked with a moist eye into the face of the man who, if his plans worked out, would be either murderer or murdered before the close of the next day. "I am very sorry, Terence."
"I thought you came to congratulate me," said Terry, withdrawing his hand.
"Congratulate you?" echoed Vance, with unaffected astonishment.
"For having learned the truth," said Terry. "Also, for having a father who was a strong man."
Vance could not resist the opening.
"In a way, I suppose he was," he said dryly. "And if you look at it in that way, I do congratulate you, Terence!"
"You've always hated me, Uncle Vance," Terry declared. "I've known it all these years. And I'll do without your congratulations."