He was inexorable, and it was six o’clock before the laden taxi rolled them to the door of the Mansions.
“You’ve given me my most wonderful day,” she said.
“You child!” he answered, and pressed her hand. “There are lots more wonderful days ahead—remember that.”
Then he and she, and the driver, each burdened sky-high with packages, mounted the stairs to the flat.
As Uncle Clem paid the fare, Eve stooped and picked up a note from the door-mat. She opened it as he closed the door.
“God!” she said, in a very little voice.
He took the note and read it.
V
Twenty minutes later Clementine Rendall was hammering on Quiltan’s front door.
He had seen what to do. It had come to him very suddenly with all the force of a strong white light. He had made no attempt to comfort Eve—she had not needed that. Wynne Rendall’s note had done its work strangely. At the death of her hopes Eve had laughed a careless, wanton laugh. It was the laugh which gave him the idea.