The old man put on a pair of huge horn spectacles and eyed her carefully.
“You’ve got something on your mind,” he said, at last; “you’d better tell me everything.”
Mrs. Gimpson shook her head.
“There’s some danger hanging over you,” continued Mr. Silver, in a low, thrilling voice; “some danger in connection with your son-in-law. There,” he waved a lean, shrivelled hand backward and forward as though dispelling a fog, and peered into distance—“there is something forming over you. You—or somebody—are hiding something from me.”
Mrs. Gimpson, aghast at such omniscience, sank backward in her chair.
“Speak,” said the old man, gently; “there is no reason why you should be sacrificed for others.”
Mrs. Gimpson was of the same opinion, and in some haste she reeled off the events of the evening. She had a good memory, and no detail was lost.
“Strange, strange,” said the venerable Mr. Silver, when he had finished. “He is an ingenious man.”