Charity's self-possession had returned with the sense of her danger. "Do
you suppose I'd take the trouble to lie to YOU? Who are you, anyhow, to
ask me where I go to when I go out at night?"
Mr. Royall lifted his head and looked at her. His face had grown quiet
and almost gentle, as she remembered seeing it sometimes when she was a
little girl, before Mrs. Royall died.
"Don't let's go on like this, Charity. It can't do any good to either of
us. You were seen going into that fellow's house... you were seen coming
out of it.... I've watched this thing coming, and I've tried to stop it.
As God sees me, I have...."
"Ah, it WAS you, then? I knew it was you that sent him away!"
He looked at her in surprise. "Didn't he tell you so? I thought he
understood." He spoke slowly, with difficult pauses, "I didn't name
you to him: I'd have cut my hand off sooner. I just told him I couldn't
spare the horse any longer; and that the cooking was getting too heavy
for Verena. I guess he's the kind that's heard the same thing before.
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