Hervoiceroseasthetumultofherrecollectionspresseduponhermind。
Theinveteratedistrustwhichweighs，nightandday，onmyspiritsinthishouse，instantlyrousedmetowarnher——justasthesightofthebroochhadrousedmetoquestionher，themomentbefore。
`Speaklow，’Isaid。`Thewindowisopen，andthegardenpathrunsbeneathit。Beginatthebeginning，Laura。Tellme，wordforword，whatpassedbetweenthatwomanandyou。’
`ShallIclosethewindow？’
`No，onlyspeaklow——onlyrememberthatAnneCatherickisadangeroussubjectunderyourhusband’sroof。Wheredidyoufirstseeher？’