Hill was exchanging greetings with his hostess, and salutations around the table. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. ‘That’s why I’m asking. Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most urgent entreaty, "before you take me hence, I implore you—if you would further the ends of justice—search this house. “It was inevitable,” he declared.
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