Swithin sighed. ‘I admit it,’ he said.
‘And what do I find them?’
‘You say reprehensible. But you might at least let me hear the proof!’
‘I can do more, sir. I can let you see it!’
There was a pause. Louis Glanville was so highly interested that he stood upon the seat of the arbour, and looked through the leafage over the wall. The Bishop had produced an article from his pocket.
‘What is it?’ said Swithin, laboriously scrutinizing the thing.
‘Why, don’t you see?’ said the Bishop, holding it out between his finger and thumb in Swithin’s face. ‘A bracelet,—a coral bracelet. I found the wanton object on the bed in your cabin! And of the sex of the owner there can be no doubt. More than that, she was concealed behind the curtains, for I saw them move.’ In the decision of his opinion the Bishop threw the coral bracelet down on a tombstone.
‘Nobody was in my room, my lord, who had not a perfect right to be there,’ said the younger man.
‘Well, well, that’s a matter of assertion. Now don’t get into a passion, and say to me in your haste what you’ll repent of saying afterwards.’
‘I am not in a passion, I assure your lordship. I am too sad for passion.’