‘I thought you would understand me,’ Gilbert replied, gravely, not offensively, with far more dignity than the other had been able to preserve.  ’Several things compelled me to believe that you knew of her leaving us.  I was told of your meetings with her at the library.’

He paused.  Like Egremont, he could not speak his whole thought.  Whilst there remained a possibility that Egremont indeed knew nothing of Thyrza’s disappearance, he might not strengthen his case by making use of the girl’s confession to her sister.  He could only make use of outward circumstances.

‘The meetings at the library?’ Egremont repeated.  ’But do you think they had any meaning that I can’t at once and freely explain to you?  It was the idlest folly on my part.  I had a plan that I would get books on to the shelves that week, and at the end of it take you there and surprise you.  Didn’t I imply that in my letter to you from Jersey?  It was childish, of course.  On the Monday, Miss Trent surprised me at work.  She had happened to see a box being brought in, and naturally came to see what was going on.  I was unthinking enough to ask her to keep the secret.  By allowing her to help me, I encouraged her to come again the next day.  So much was wholly my fault, but surely not a very grave one.  Do you imagine, Grail, that anything passed between us on those two mornings which you might not have heard?  How is it possible for you, for you, to pass from the fact of that foolish secret to such suspicions as these?

In the pause Gilbert offered no word.

‘And who told you about it?  Evidently someone bent on mischief.’

Again a pause.  Gilbert stood unmoving.

’You still suspect me?  You think I am lying to you?  Do you know me no better than that?’

It rang false, it rang false.  His own voice sounded to him as that of an actor, who does his poor best to be forcible and pathetic.  Yet what lie had he told?  Could he say all he thought he had read in Thyrza’s eyes?  There was the parting that night beyond Lambeth Bridge; how could he speak of that?  Was he himself not absolutely innocent?  Had he not by a desperate struggle avoided as much as a glance of tenderness at the girl for whom he was mad with love?

Gilbert spoke at length.

’I find it very hard to believe that you know nothing more.  There are other things.  As soon as we knew that she was gone, that Friday night, I came here to ask for you.’

‘And why?  Why to me?’

’Because she had been seen with you at the library, and people had begun to talk.  They told me you were gone, and I asked for your address.  They wouldn’t give it me.’

’That meant nothing whatever.  It was merely my landlady’s idea of her responsibility to me.’

’Yes, that may be.  On Saturday night a letter came from you, from Jersey.’

’Well?  Was that the kind of letter I could have written if I had been such a traitor to you?’