“Which of them cried?” said Ember sharply. “I think they both did—Miss Todhunter most.” “And you couldn’t hear what they were saying?” “Not a word.” “I must know. Will you send for her and find out? It’s of the first importance.” “You think....” “She may have told this girl what we’ve been trying to get out of her. I must know. Look here, I’ll take a book and sit down over there. She won’t notice me. Send for her and begin about other things, then ask her why her friend was so distressed....” Jane heard Ember move again and knew that this time it was towards the bell. She turned and ran back along the way by which she had come. Five minutes later she was entering the library to find Lady Heritage at her table and Ember at the far end of the room buried in a book. “I want the unanswered-letter file.” Lady Heritage’s voice was very businesslike. Jane brought it over and waited whilst Raymond turned over the letters, frowning. “I don’t see Lady Manning’s letter.” “You answered it yesterday.” “So I did. Miss Molloy—why did your friend cry this afternoon?” “Daphne?” “Yes, Daphne. Why did she cry?” “Oh, she does, you know.” “But I suppose not entirely without some cause.” “She was angry with me,” said Jane very low. “Yes? I noticed that she did not kiss you when you went away.” “No, she’s angry. You see”—Jane hung her head—“you see, she thinks—I’m afraid she thinks that I didn’t treat her brother very well.” “Her brother?” “Yes. She wanted me to be engaged to him, but he’s married some one else, so I think it’s rather silly of her to be cross with me, don’t you?” “I really don’t know.” Out of the tail of her eye Jane saw Mr. Ember nod his head just perceptibly. Lady Heritage must have seen it too, for she pushed the letter file over to Jane. “Put this away. No, I don’t want anything more at present.” Tea came in as she spoke. Afterwards in her own room Jane sat down on the broad window ledge with her hands in her lap, looking out over the sea. The lovely day was drawing slowly to a lovelier close, the sun-drenched air absolutely still, absolutely clear. The tide was low, the sea one sheet of unbroken blue, except where the black rocks, more visible than Jane had ever seen them, pierced the surface. Jane did not quite know what had happened to her. Her moment of exhilaration was gone. She was not afraid, but she felt a sense of horror which she had not known before. She had thought of this adventure as _her_ adventure, her own risk. Somehow she had never really related it to other people. For the first time, she began to see Formula “A,” not as something which threatened her, but as something that menaced the world. It was ridiculous that it was Mrs. Cottingham and Daphne Todhunter who had caused this change.