Percivale made no reply.
"Her temper, too—she has never been taught to govern it," went on Henry, sadly; "and it is very violent. Add to this the provocation she has had——"
"Have you," asked Claud, suddenly, "have you mentioned to anyone the book we found on the cliff last night?"
Henry made a gesture of despair.
"I had forgotten that," he said, miserably. "But it is another strong piece of evidence."
Claud explained to Percivale.
"Miss Brabourne told us that she had not been on the cliffs yesterday. As we walked home, we found a favorite book of hers lying out in the rain—a book which only some very unforeseen agitation would induce her to part with."
"Of course we could suppress that evidence at the inquest," was the immoral suggestion of the Justice of the Peace.
"It will not be necessary," tranquilly replied their companion. "I shall know the truth by then."
They were out on the cliffs by this time, and presently became aware, by the halting of the sailors in front, that the fatal spot was reached. They saw Mrs. Orton cast herself on the ground in the theatrical way which seemed habitual to her, and saw her husband's face turn greenish white as he averted it from the little corpse over which she bent so vehemently. Walking forward, they too stood beside the dead boy.