Jill sat turning the letter over and over in her fingers. Her face was very white. There seemed to be a big, heavy, leaden something inside her. A cold hand clutched her throat. Uncle Chris, who at first had noticed nothing untoward, now began to find the silence sinister.
“No bad news, I hope, dear?”
Jill turned the letter between her fingers.
“Jill, is it bad news?”
“Derek has broken off the engagement,” said Jill in a dull voice. She let the note fall to the floor, and sat with her chin in her hands.
“What!” Uncle Chris leaped from the hearth-rug, as though the fire had suddenly scorched him. “What did you say?”
“He’s broken it off.”
“The hound!” cried Uncle Chris. “The blackguard! The—the—I never liked that man! I never trusted him!” He fumed for a moment. “But—but—it isn’t possible. How can he have heard about what’s happened? He couldn’t know. It’s—it’s—it isn’t possible!”
“He doesn’t know. It has nothing to do with that.”
“But …” Uncle Chris stooped to where the note lay. “May I … ?”