I was nothing."
"Yes," said Chayne.
The device was subtle, diabolically subtle. But he wondered whether it
was only to counterbalance and destroy Sylvia's influence that Garratt
Skinner had introduced cocaine to Hine's notice; whether he had not had
in view some other end, even still more sinister.
"I saw very little of Mr. Hine after our return to London," she
continued. "He did not come often to the house, but when he did come,
each time I saw that he had changed. He had grown nervous and violent of
temper. Even before we left Dorsetshire the violence had become
noticeable."
"Oh!" said Chayne, looking quickly at Sylvia. "Before you left
Dorsetshire?"
"Yes; and my father seemed to me to provoke it, though I could not guess
why. For instance--"
"Yes?" said Chayne. "Tell me!"
He spoke quietly enough, but once again there was audible a certain
intensity in his voice. There had been an occasion when Sylvia had given
to him more news of Garratt Skinner than she had herself. Was she to do
so once more? He leaned forward with his eyes on hers.
"The night when you came back to me. Do you remember, Hilary?" and a
smile lightened his face.
"I shall forget no moment of that night, sweetheart, while I live," he
whispered; and blushes swept prettily over her face, and in a sweet
confusion she smiled back at him.
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