"Why, I've been playing good angel all day
long--me incriminate myself, indeed! If Miss Greyle there only knew what
I'd done for her!--look here," she continued, suddenly turning to Sir
Cresswell. "I've come to tell all about it. And first of all--every penny
of that money that my father drew from the bank has been restored this
afternoon."
"We know that," said Sir Cresswell.
"Well, that was me!--I engineered that," continued Addie. "And
second--the _Pike_ will be back at Scarhaven during the night, to unload
everything that was being carried away. My doing, again! Because, I'm no
fool, and I know when a game's up."
"So--there was a game?" suggested Vickers.
Addie leaned forward from the chair which Sir Cresswell had given her at
the end of the table and planting her elbows on the table edge began to
check off her points on the tips of her slender fingers. She was well
aware that she had the stage to herself by that time and she showed her
consciousness of it.
"You have it," she answered. "There was a game--and perhaps I know more
of it than anybody. I'll tell now. It began at Bristol. I was playing
there. One morning my father fetched me out from rehearsal to tell me
that he'd been down to Falmouth to meet the new Squire of Scarhaven,
Marston Greyle, and that he found him so ill that they'd had to go to a
doctor, who forbade Greyle to travel far at a time.
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