“But, Gwen,” he exclaimed, “you surely can explain where you’ve been. The police, it seems, have been searching for you everywhere.”
Her eyes were cast quickly around the room, as though seeking means of escape from that cross-examination. Then she answered:
“I really don’t see what my business concerns any one—so long as I am at home again.”
“This is scarcely like you, Gwen,” exclaimed the grey-haired man reproachfully. “You are usually so very thoughtful for me, and careful not to give me cause for a moment’s anxiety.”
“It was quite inevitable, dad,” she replied. “I would not have remained silent intentionally—as you well know.”
“But surely,” interrupted Frank in a voice which showed that his suspicions were already aroused, “surely you can at least allow us the satisfaction of knowing where you’ve been, dear!”
“No harm has befallen me, has there? Therefore, why trouble about my absence?” she asked. To utter those words required all her self-control. She knew in what an awkward position she was now placing herself.
“Well, you seem to regard very lightly all the anxiety you have caused me, my child,” protested Griffin sharply.
“I am very sorry—truly sorry, dear dad,” was the pale-faced girl’s reply, “but my silence really was not my own fault.”
“At least you might be frank with us now, Gwen!” declared her lover. “You surely have nothing to hide!”