Paul gazed about with hazy eyes. Mercy flung herself at his feet and wept bitterly.
"Forgive me! oh, forgive me!"
He looked down at her with a confused expression. His brain was benumbed. He drew one arm across his face as though struggling to recover some lost link of memory.
"Why, my good lass, what's this?" he said, and then smiled faintly and made an attempt to raise her up.
"Who is at the convent at Westminster?" she asked.
Then all his manner changed.
"Why?—what of that?" he said.
"Mrs. Drayton was sent there in a cab to tell Mrs. Ritson to be at St. Pancras Station at midnight to meet her husband and return to Cumberland."
The face that had been pale became suddenly old and ghastly. There was an awful silence.
"Is this the truth?" he asked.