Colwood--"you are not going to tell me that you
don't know about Diana's mother?"
She laid her hand upon Muriel's dress.
"Why should I know? Please, Miss Merton!" and with a resolute movement
Mrs. Colwood tried to withdraw her dress.
"Why, _everybody_ knows!--everybody!--everybody! Ask anybody in the
world about Juliet Sparling--and you'll see. In the saloon, coming over,
I heard people talk about her all one night--they didn't know who _I_
was--and of course I didn't tell. And there was a book in the ship's
library--_Famous Trials_--or some name of that sort--with the whole
thing in it. You don't know--about--Diana's _mother_?"
The fierce, incredulous emphasis on the last word, for a moment,
withered all reply on Mrs. Colwood's lips. She walked to the door
mechanically, to see that it was fast shut. Then she returned. She sat
down beside Diana's guest, and it might have been seen that she had
silenced fear and dismissed hesitation. "After all," she said, with
quiet command, "I think I will ask you, Miss Merton, to explain what
you mean?"
* * * * *
The February afternoon darkened round the old house.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202