I saw him as soon as she did. He came towards us, slashing viciously at the flowers with his riding-whip. When he was near enough to see my face he stopped, struck at his boot with the whip, and burst out laughing, so harshly and so violently that the birds flew away, startled, from the tree by which he stood.
“Well, Mrs. Michelson,” he said, “you have found it out at last, have you?”
I made no reply. He turned to Mrs. Rubelle.
“When did you show yourself in the garden?”
“I showed myself about half an hour ago, sir. You said I might take my liberty again as soon as Lady Glyde had gone away to London.”
“Quite right. I don’t blame you—I only asked the question.” He waited a moment, and then addressed himself once more to me. “You can’t believe it, can you?” he said mockingly. “Here! come along and see for yourself.”
He led the way round to the front of the house. I followed him, and Mrs. Rubelle followed me. After passing through the iron gates he