The door opened and the parlourmaid entered. Miss Fewbanks stepped
quickly across the room so that she should not witness the distress of
Mrs. Holymead. The servant handed her a card and waited for instructions.
Miss Fewbanks looked at the card in an agony of indecision. Then she made
up her mind firmly.
"Show him into my study," she whispered to the girl.
She returned to her visitor, who was sitting with her face buried in
her hands.
"Mr. Crewe has just motored down," she said. "I will save your husband
if I can."
CHAPTER XXVIII
She was conscious that the revelation that her father had been killed
by Mr. Holymead was a less shock than the revelation that her father
had dishonoured the great friendship of his life by seducing his
friend's wife. Her father had been dead three months, and her grief had
run its course. The shock caused by the discovery that he had been
murdered had passed away, and she had begun to accept his violent death
as part of her own experience of life. But the discovery that he had
betrayed his best friend, in a way that a pure-minded woman regards as
the most dishonourable way possible, was a fresh revelation to her of
human infamy.
Pages:
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414