Mr. Benson was at last put to rout. She had hesitated⁠—more than hesitated; she had been distinctly averse to relating what she now detailed as a most indifferent conversation, but, in the face of that expression of injured innocence, Mr. Benson could say no more on that subject.

“When you left Mr. Carleton,” he went on, “did you know he was about to come over here to Miss Van Norman’s?”

Again the telegraphic signals between Miss Burt and Carleton.

Quick as a flash⁠—invisible to most of the onlookers, but distinctly seen by Fessenden⁠—a question was asked and answered.

“No,” she said quickly; “I did not.”