He took her in his arms, sat down with her on the sofa, and let her sob herself still.
"And now, Harriet," he said, when the hysterical sobs were hushed, "who is this man, and what is he to you?"
"He is nothing to me—less than nothing! I hate him!"
"Where did you know him before?"
"Know him before?" She sat up and looked him half angrily in the face. "I never knew him before! I never set eyes on him until I saw him here."
Sir Everard drew a long breath of relief. No one could doubt her truth, and his worst suspicion was at rest.
"Then what is this secret between you two? For there is a secret,
Harriet."
"There is."
"What is it, Harriet?"
"I can not tell you."