“Questions again?” he said hastily, and a flush came into his cheek.
“I have a right to ask this question,” said Kate firmly.
His eye fell under hers; he set down the glass unsteadily and upset the cider.
“Hang it! why have you a right?”
“I want to know that my father is alive.”
“I say he’s gone to Portsmouth.”
“But how did he go?”
“That was his affair, not mine; the Atmospheric, I suppose.”
“He could not cross during that night’at least, not till near dawn, and so must have been here when the warehouse was burnt.”
“I don’t see that; there are other ways of getting away. He went on to Shaldon.”