"And you, my poor child, had never moved from the dining-room!"
"Don't I say so, mamma!" came the answer, a shade of peevishness at being questioned in the otherwise impassive tone. "I had kept Georgy with me."
Mrs. Darling drew a long sigh: it seemed like a relief from some nightmare. "How came Honour to leave him with a lighted candle?" she exclaimed in anger.
"Mamma, I wish you would not ask me these things! I don't care to talk of them."
For some minutes there was silence, but Mrs. Darling was an impulsive woman, and it was almost impossible for her to think of any fresh point without breaking out with a question. She did so now; suddenly, abruptly.
"Is it true that the doors were fastened?"
"Who told you they were?" exclaimed Mrs. St. John.
"Mr. Pym. I saw him as I came up here."
"Mr. Pym told you the doors were fastened?" repeated Mrs. St. John, fixing her strange eyes upon her mother.
"Yes. At least---- What he said was, that Honour asserts they were fastened."