“That was generous of you, Barbara,” Desmond said gently.
She sighed.
“Daddy knew her as a little girl,” she answered, “and he was so pleased to see her again that night. She never had a chance. I hope she’ll get one now!”
“They’re going to intern her, I believe,” said Desmond, “until the end of the war; they could do nothing else, you know. But she will be well looked after, and I think she will be safer in our charge than if she were allowed to remain at liberty. The German Secret Service has had a bad knock, you know. Somebody has got to pay for it!”
“I know,” the girl whispered, “and it frightens me.”
“You poor child!” said Desmond, “you’ve had a rough time. But it’s all over now. And that reminds me, Barney is coming up for sentence to-day; they charged him with murder originally; but Marigold kept on getting him remanded until they were able to alter the charge to one of burglary. He’ll probably get two years’ hard labor, Marigold says.”
“Poor Barney!” said Barbara, “I wish they would let him go free. All these weeks the mystery of poor Daddy’s death has so weighed upon my mind that now it has been cleared up I feel as though one day I might be happy again. And I want everybody to be happy, too!”
“Barbara,” said Desmond and took her hand.
Barbara calmly withdrew it from his grasp and brushed an imaginary curl out of her eye.
“Any news of your hundred thousand pound kit?” she asked, by way of turning the conversation.