"Then how did you learn the story?" asked Sutch.
"Some one else told me. I was told that Willoughby had come, and that he
had brought a white feather, and that Ethne had taken it from him. Never
mind by whom. That gave me a clue. I lay in wait for Willoughby in
London. He is not very clever; he tried to obey Ethne's command of
silence, but I managed to extract the information I wanted. The rest of
the story I was able to put together by myself. Ethne now and then was
off her guard. You are surprised that I was clever enough to find out
the truth by the exercise of my own wits?" said Durrance, with a laugh.
Lieutenant Sutch jumped in his seat. It was mere chance, of course, that
Durrance continually guessed with so singular an accuracy; still it was
uncomfortable.
"I have said nothing which could in any way suggest that I was
surprised," he said testily.
"That is quite true, but you are none the less surprised," continued
Durrance. "I don't blame you. You could not know that it is only since I
have been blind that I have begun to see. Shall I give you an instance?
This is the first time that I have ever come into this neighbourhood or
got out at your station.
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