"But how could she have known that such a paper was in our possession? You did not receive it until long after—"
"Yes, I know," interposed Mr. Goddard, with a shiver; "nevertheless I am impressed that it is now in her possession, even though I did not suppose that any one, save you and I and Will Forsyth, ever knew of its existence."
There ensued an interval of silence, during which both appeared to be absorbed in deep thought.
"If she has it, what will she do with it?" madam suddenly questioned, lifting her heavy eyes to her companion.
"I am sure I cannot tell, Anna," he coldly returned.
His tone was like a match applied to powder.
"Well, then, what will you do, Gerald Goddard, in view of the fact, as you believe, that she is alive and has learned the truth?" she imperiously demanded.
"I—I do not think it will be wise for us to discuss that point just at present," he faltered.
"Coward! Is that your answer to me after twenty years of adoration and devotion?" cried the enraged woman, springing excitedly to her feet, the look of a slumbering demon in her dusky eyes.
"After twenty years of jealousy, bickering, and turmoil, you should have said, Anna," was the bitter response.