Iredale’s mouth was parched. His voice sounded strange in his own ears. For the moment he could scarcely realize his position. An overwhelming horror was upon him. Suddenly he turned.
“What is the date of that paper?”
“A few days before Leslie’s death. But this notice has appeared many times since––which will make our task the easier.”
“Yes, it will make our task the easier.”
Another pause, which was protracted until the silence could almost be felt. Then Prudence spoke.
“You will stay to tea?”
Iredale pulled himself together.
“No, I think not. The storm has passed, the rain is ceasing. I had better hurry back home. It will come back on us––the storm, I mean.”
The girl looked out of the window.