“She is returning next week; that is all I know of her movements…
Sir Owen Asher.”
“Returning next week! But what does it matter to me whether she returns or not? She won’t see me. Do you think she will, Mr. Innes?”
“I cannot discuss these matters with you, Sir Owen,” and Innes took up his pen as if anxious for Sir Owen to leave the room so that he might go on copying. Owen noticed this, but it was impossible for him to leave the room. For the last twelve years he had been thinking about Innes, and wanted to tell him how Evelyn had been loved, and he wanted to air his hatred of religious orders and religion in general.
“I am afraid I am disturbing you, but I can’t help; it,” and he dropped into a chair. “You have no idea, Mr. Innes, how I loved your daughter.”
“She always speaks of yo
