As she turned the corner, the figure she expected was waiting there; and she could see in the deep twilight that he lifted his hat to her. She went straight up to him.
“Yes,” she said, “I have seen for myself. You are right so far. Now tell me what to do.”
It was no time for conventionality. She did not ask why the solicitor was there. It was enough that he had come.
“Walk this way then with me,” he said. “Now tell me what you have seen.”
“I have seen a change I cannot describe at all. It’s just someone else—not Laurie at all. I don’t understand it in the least. But I just want to know what to do. I have written to Father Mahon to come.”
He was silent for a step or two.
“I cannot tell you what to do. I must leave that to yourself. I can only tell you what not to do.”
“Very well.”
“Miss Deronnais, you are magnificent! … There, it is said. Now then. You must not get excited or frightened whatever happens. I do not believe that you are in any danger—not of the ordinary kind, I mean. But if you want me, I shall be at the inn. I have taken rooms there for a night or so. And you must not yield to him interiorly. I wonder if you understand.”
“I think I shall understand soon. At present I understand nothing. I have said I cannot dine with him.”
“But—”