'You've killed him,' said the harsh voice.
Victoria looked up at Mrs Holt.
'No, no.'
'My boy, my poor boy!' Mrs Holt was on her knees by the side of the motionless figure.
Victoria began to weep, silently at first, then noisily. Mrs Holt started at the sound, then jumped to her feet with a cry of rage.
'Stop that crying,' she commanded. 'How dare you? How dare you?'
Victoria went on crying, the sobs choking her.
'A murderess,' Mrs Holt went on. 'You took my boy away; you corrupted him, ruined him, killed him. You're a vile thing; nobody should touch you, you. . . .'
Victoria pulled herself together.
'It's not my fault,' she stumbled. 'I didn't know.'