“I have discovered more than that,” was John’s unmoved reply.
“And the woman—Martha Griggs—is she still living? do you know where to find her?” demanded Giovanna with an eagerness she made no attempt to conceal.
“Martha Griggs was lost overboard on the voyage between New York and London.”
“Lost overboard! And my child—what became of her?” She had again risen. Voice, eyes, hands—all asked the question.
On the instant a great light of gladness, the source of which Giovanna was at a loss to comprehend, flamed out of John Clare’s eyes.
“So I have surprised your secret, have I?” he said, speaking very slowly.
For a few seconds she stared at him with bewildered eyes; then the truth dawned on her.
“Yes,” she replied, “you have surprised my secret, if that is the way you choose to put it. But the child——”
“A child no longer, is alive and well, and at the present moment under her grandfather’s roof at Withington Chase.”
“At Withington Chase—she! How strange! How wonderful! But I am very glad—oh yes, you may believe me when I tell you that I am very glad! For, whatever you may think, I am not all bad.” She crossed quickly to the window and stood there with her back towards him for fully three minutes.