There was a long silence. From the direction of the kitchen came the sound of cheerful voices, and the clatter of lids, and from the walled garden outside the chatter of birds….
At last the girl spoke.
"I cannot believe it without evidence," she said. "It may be so. God knows! But I do not…. Mr. Biddell?"
"Well, mistress?"
The lawyer's head was sunk on his breast; he spoke listlessly.
"He will have given some writing to Mr. Topcliffe, will he not? if this be true. Mr. Topcliffe is not the man—"
The old man lifted his head sharply; then he nodded.
"That is the shrewd truth, mistress. Mr. Topcliffe will not trust to another's honour; he hath none of his own!"
"Well," said Marjorie, "if all this be true, Mr. Topcliffe will already have that writing in his possession."
She paused.