"I quite understand that," said Ann. "But an impostor would not
know that you felt like that, would he?"
"I see what you mean."
Ann relaxed again. The relief was, however, only momentary.
"I cannot understand, though," said Mrs. Pett, "why your uncle
should have been so positive that he saw this young man on the
_Atlantic_."
"Just a chance resemblance, I suppose. Why, uncle Peter said he
saw the man whom he imagined was like Jimmy Crocker talking to
me. If there had been any real resemblance, shouldn't I have seen
it before uncle Peter?"
Assistance came from an unexpected quarter.
"I know the chap uncle Peter meant," said Ogden. "He wasn't like
this guy at all."
Ann was too grateful for the help to feel astonished at it. Her
mind, dwelling for a mere instant on the matter, decided that
Ogden must have seen her on deck with somebody else than Jimmy.
She had certainly not lacked during the voyage for those who
sought her society.
Mrs. Pett seemed to be impressed.
"I may be letting my imagination run away with me," she said.
"Of course you are, aunt Nesta," said Ann thankfully. "You don't
realise what a vivid imagination you have got. When I was typing
that last story of yours, I was simply astounded at the ideas you
had thought of. I remember saying so to uncle Peter. You can't
expect to have a wonderful imagination like yours and not imagine
things, can you?"
Mrs. Pett smiled demurely. She looked hopefully at her niece,
waiting for more, but Ann had said her say.
"You are perfectly right, my dear child," she said when she was
quite sure the eulogy was not to be resumed. "No doubt I have
been foolish to suspect this young man. But Lord Wisbeach's words
naturally acted more strongly on a mind like mine than they would
have done in the case of another woman."
"Of course," said Ann.
She was feeling quite happy now. It had been tense while it had
lasted, but everything was all right now.
"And, fortunately," said Mrs. Pett, "there is a way by which we
can find out for certain if the young man is really James
Crocker."
Ann became rigid again.
"A way? What way?"
"Why, don't you remember, my dear, that Skinner has known James
Crocker for years."
"Skinner?"
The name sounded familiar, but in the stress of the moment Ann
could not identify it.
"My new butler. He came to me straight from Eugenia. It was he
who let us in when we called at her house. Nobody could know
better than he whether this person is really James Crocker or
not."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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