Rosamund moved and looked up. Then she got up from her chair.
“But—but—Robin’s——”
She stopped. Her eyes were fixed on Father Robertson. He looked up and met her eyes, and she saw plainly the mystic in him.
“What do we know?” he said. “What do we know of the effects of our actions? Can we be certain that they are limited to this earth? Is it well with the child? I say we don’t know. We dare not affirm that we know. He loved his father, didn’t he?”
Rosamund looked stricken. He let her go. He could not say any more to her.
That evening Lady Ingleton called in Manxby Street and asked for Father Robertson. He happened to be in and received her at once.
“I’ve had a note from Mrs. Leith,” she said.
“I am not surprised,” said Father Robertson. “Indeed I expected it.”
“She wishes to see me to-morrow. She writes that she will come to the hotel. How have you persuaded her to come?”
“I don’t think I have persuaded her though I wish her to see you. But I have told her of her husband’s infidelity.”