Cecilia answered: "But she's, on my conscience, Stephen."
"They're all on my conscience," muttered Hilary.
Bianca looked at him for the first time; then, turning to her nephew, said: "What do you say, Martin?"
The young man, whose face was stained by the firelight the colour of pale cheese, made no answer.
But suddenly through the stillness came a voice:
Everyone turned round. Mr. Stone was seen emerging from behind "The Shadow"; his frail figure, in its grey tweeds, his silvery hair and beard, were outlined sharply against the wall.
"Why, Father," Cecilia said, "we didn't know that you were here!"
Mr. Stone looked round bewildered; it seemed as if he, too, had been ignorant of that fact.