"But still I know, for all that,
he did it. Perhaps it was all done in a moment of haste. But at
least he did it. And nothing on earth that anybody could say will
ever make me believe he didn't."
When Mrs. Clifford came back to the hotel an hour later, she scanned
her daughter's face with a keen glance of inquiry.
"Well, he says he won't ask you again," she murmured, laying Elma's
head on her shoulder, "till this case is cleared up, and Guy is
proved innocent."
"Yes," Elma answered, nestling close and looking red as a rose.
"He knows very well Guy didn't do it, but he wants all the rest of
the world to acknowledge it also."
"And YOU know who did it?" Mrs, Clifford said, with a tentative
air.
"Yes, mother. Do you?"
"Of course I do, darling. But it'll never be proved against HIM,
you may be sure. I saw it at a glance. It's Mr. Gilbert Gildersleeve."
CHAPTER XXX.
FRESH DISCOVERIES.
As Cyril drove home from Waterloo next day to his lonely rooms in
Staple Inn, Holborn, he turned aside with his cab for a few minutes
to make a passing call at the bank in Lombard Street. He was short
of ready money, and wanted to cash a cheque for fifty pounds for
expenses incurred in his defence at Tavistock.
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