“With this new charge advanced?” he said. “No, I am afraid not. Certainly not. But perhaps,” looking at her, “the young lady will still change her mind. To change the mind”—with a feeble grin—“is a lady’s privilege.”
“I shall not tell you anything,” Henrietta said with a catch in her breath. She hid her smarting, tingling wrist behind her. She might have complained; but not for the world would she have let them know what he had done to her, what she had suffered.
Mr. Sutton, who was standing in the background, stepped forward.
“Miss Damer,” he said earnestly, “I beg you, I implore you to think.”
“I have thought,” she answered with stubborn anger. “And if I could help him,” she pointed to Clyne, “if I could help him by lifting my finger——”
“Oh, dear, dear!” the chaplain cried, appalled by her vehemence. “Don’t say that! Don’t say that!”
“What shall I say, then?” she answered—still she remembered herself. “I have told you that I know nothing of the abduction of his child. That is all I have to say.”
Hornyold shook his sleek head again.
“I am afraid that won’t do,” he said. “What”—consulting Nadin with his eye—“what do the officers say?”
Nadin laughed curtly.