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Updated: July 29, 2025
To her the sentences carried no message; but the voice smiting, pure and cold, across the hot confusion in her brain, steadied her while it terrified. Yet she knew the voice well enough. It was but John Romley's. This was his chance and he was using it; making the most of it, too, to the mingled admiration and disgust of his rivals listening in the choir beside him.
Piecing the truth together from her incoherent railings, Hetty learned that the Rector had happened upon a scrap of Romley's handwriting, had lost his temper furiously and given sentence of banishment.
She could not tell to which of these the voice belonged: but the laugh and the jest it followed though she had not caught it were plainly at John Romley's expense, and the laugh was horrible. It rang on her ears like a street-door bell. It seemed to tear down the mystery of the house and scream out its secret. The young man at the window turned against his will and met Hetty's eyes.
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