"You admit that you are friendly with the girl Shand—eh?"
"Certainly."
"More than friendly, I wonder?" she asked in a sharp tone.
"Well—I'll be perfectly frank," was my answer. "I am engaged to be married to her."
"Married," she gasped, "to her! Are you mad, Mr. Royle?"
"I think not," I answered, greatly surprised at her sudden attitude. "Why?"
"Because—because," she replied in a low, earnest voice, scarce above a whisper, "because, before you take such a step make further inquiry."
"Inquiry about what?" I demanded.
"About—well, about what has occurred at Harrington Gardens."
"Then you know!" I cried. "You know the truth, Mrs. Petre?"