"I can't help that. He shouldn't have let me go out with
you in a punt."
There was a discreet knock at the door. Brooks made his
apologetic and somewhat troubled entrance.
"Sir Timothy Brast is here to see you, sir," he announced.
"I ventured to say that you were not at home--"
"But I happened to know otherwise," a still voice remarked from
outside. "May I come in, Mr. Ledsam?"
Sir Timothy stepped past the servant, who at a sign from Francis
disappeared, closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER XXII
After his first glance at Sir Timothy, Francis' only thought was
for Margaret. To his intense relief, she showed no signs
whatever of terror, or of any relapse to her former state. She
was entirely mistress of herself and the occasion. Sir Timothy's
face was cold and terrible.
"I must apologise for this second intrusion, Mr. Ledsam," he said
cuttingly. "I think you will admit that the circumstances
warrant it. Am I to understand that you lied to me this
morning?"
"You are to understand nothing of the sort," Francis answered.
"I told you everything I knew at that time of your daughter's
movements."
"Indeed!" Sir Timothy murmured. "This little banquet, then, was
unpremeditated?"
"Entirely," Francis replied. "Here is the exact truth, so far as
I am concerned.
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