The Vicar had not recovered from the shock. He was convinced that he never would recover from it. But on that Sunday he had found a temporary oblivion, dozing in his study between two services.
There had been no scene like that with Alice. But what had passed between the sisters had been even worse.
Mary had gone straight from the study to Ally's room. Ally was undressing.
Ally received the news in a cruel silence. She looked coldly, sternly almost, and steadily at Mary.
"You needn't have told me that," she said at last. "I could see what you were doing the other night."
"What I was doing?"
"Yes, you. I don't imagine Steven Rowcliffe did it"
"Really Ally—what do you suppose I did?"
"I don't know what it was. But I know you did something and I know that—whatever it was—I wouldn't have done it."
And Mary answered quietly. "If I were you, Ally, I wouldn't show my feelings quite so plainly."