“Laura Lovell.”
Mr. Carfax dropped the letter.
In the waning light, Anne saw that his face was white.
“You must have known of this!” he broke out fiercely. “You must have known, I say!”
Anne moved swiftly to his side, and laid her hand on his arm.
“It’s all right,” she whispered hurriedly. “I did know. I stopped it. Sylvia is quite safe, at Carlisle House. If I had guessed that such news would reach you, I would have told you at once. I was going to tell you when you came in. But you put it out of my head,” she added simply.
The Vicar’s colour had not returned. He stood mopping his forehead slowly with his handkerchief, his face working so painfully that Anne, her eyes full of tears, turned away.
She opened her writing-table, and rang the bell.
“What are you going to do?” stammered her companion.
“Send a note to your wife. I can’t bear to think of her anxiety.”