"Tell me more. Tell me why."
"I shall tell you no more. I shall leave it to your—to Richard Woodroffe, whom you love so well. He will tell you."
The young man hesitated. "What do you want me to do?"
"You are to come with me to Mrs. Haveril's rooms; she will receive you; she will make a communication to you. Whatever she says you are to receive with courtesy—with courtesy, mind. That done, you may return, and everything will go on as usual. You can then forget what you heard. Are you ready? Very well."
"If that cad, the fiddler, is there——"
"Hark ye, Sir Humphrey, if you behave or speak like a cub and a cur, I throw you over. By the Lord! I will have no mercy upon you. I will tell you myself what it all means. Now!"
Molly waited, sitting beside Alice, who lay with closed eyes. Perhaps she slept. Presently John Haveril came home. Molly told him what had happened.
"Ay, ay," he said. "Let him come. Let Alice have her say. They've made a cur of him between them. Let him come."