Clearly from their faces they had as yet heard nothing.
Geoffrey rose, and Elizabeth caught sight of him standing with glowing
eyes and a face like that of Death himself. She recoiled in alarm.
"What brings you here, Mr. Bingham?" she said, in her hard voice.
"Cannot you guess, Miss Granger?" he said sternly. "A few days back you
made certain charges against your sister and myself in the presence of
your father and Mr. Owen Davies. These charges have been communicated to
me, and I have come to answer them and to demand satisfaction for them."
Mr. Granger fidgeted nervously and looked as though he would like to
escape, but Elizabeth, with characteristic courage, shut the door and
faced the storm.
"Yes, I did make those charges, Mr. Bingham," she said, "and they are
true charges. But stop, we had better send for Beatrice first."
"You may send, but you will not find her."
"What do you mean?--what do you mean?" asked her father apprehensively.
"It means that he has hidden her away, I suppose," said Elizabeth with a
sneer.
"I mean, Mr. Granger, that your daughter Beatrice is _dead_.
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