She had not that sharpness of vision in the matter of right and wrong, nor that fineness of texture of conscience that had Winefred. Like a vast number of other people, any pretext served as an excuse for the commission of a wrong; a colourable pretext was the cocaine with which moral sensation was benumbed. Various causes had combined to make Winefred high principled as she was.
Unquestionably there was natural downrightness in her character from the outstart; this had been accentuated by her work in selecting and polishing stones for the lapidary. Too often had she been deceived by a pebble that promised well, and which only after laborious grinding and smoothing had revealed itself to be worthless. This had contributed to foster in her resentment against an exterior that did not correspond with what was within. She had been obliged to deal with shifty personages, and had seen through their evasions. Further, she had enjoyed that supreme advantage of having been taught in a dame's school where the two duties were made the basis of all instruction, and the mind was educated instead of being taught.
But it was not trouble of mind concerning Winefred that alone allowed Jane Marley no rest. There was a something indescribable, sensible but inexplicable, that set all her nerves in a tingle, that impressed her with a feeling of insecurity.
Once and again, haunted by an unreasonable dread, she went to the wardrobe to examine the range of crooks and pendent garments and assure herself that they had not been touched. Once and again she started as though the ground beneath her feet had given way suddenly, and when she recovered herself it was to be seized with fear lest her brain was reeling. Then there came over her a qualm, and she sank on a seat with sickness at her heart and a spinning in her head.
As she shut the wardrobe door after one of these looks at her secret drawer, she saw the shadow of a man pass the window, and this was followed by a sharp rap at the door. Without awaiting an answer, a preventive man entered unceremoniously.
'Missus,' said he, 'I advise you to budge. Something is going to take place; we don't know what, and I've had orders to give you warning.'
'I do not understand you.'
'Come and see for yourself.'
Jane followed the officer, and he led her from the house, through the bushes, to a point on the edge of the cliff that commanded the beach and the sea some three hundred feet beneath.