She felt his eye on her while her own eyes were looking at the man. She turned her head—hesitated—and suddenly approached Julian. Like Grace Roseberry, she was trembling. Like Grace Roseberry, she whispered, “Who is he?”
Julian told her plainly who he was.
“Why is he here?”
“Can’t you guess?”
“No!”
Horace left Lady Janet, and joined Mercy and Julian—impatient of the private colloquy between them.
“Am I in the way?” he inquired.
Julian drew back a little, understanding Horace perfectly. He looked round at Grace. Nearly the whole length of the spacious room divided them from the place in which she was sitting. She had never moved since he had placed her in a chair. The direst of all terrors was in possession of her—terror of the unknown. There was no fear of her interfering, and no fear of her hearing what they said so long as they were careful to speak in guarded tones. Julian set the example by lowering his voice.
“Ask Horace why the police officer is here?” he said to Mercy.
She put the question directly. “Why is he here?”