I knew."

"Why didn't you tell your authorities the truth long ago?"

"How could I?"

Molly made no answer. She got up in silence and took a key from her
pocket and moved toward a small bureau between the windows. She unlocked
the lower drawer and took out a packet of papers, and in the middle of
this packet was an envelope in which lay the key of the room upstairs.
Her movements were slow but unhesitating, and when she left the room
Mark had not the slightest idea of what she would do. If he had seen her
face as she slowly mounted the great well staircase he might have
understood.

How simple it all was. She reached the top of the many steps with little
loss of breath; she turned to the right into the dark passage that led
to her own room, passed her own door, and put the key in the lock of the
one next to it. She knew so exactly which box she sought, though she had
never seen it since the day when Dr. Larrone brought it to her. Although
she had actually come in the cab that brought the small boxes from the
flat, she had succeeded in not recognising that one among the number
heaped up together. She knew exactly where it stood now, and how many
things had been piled above the boxes from the flat with seeming
carelessness, but by her orders.

The shutters were closed, but she could have found that box in inky
darkness, and now a ray from between the chinks fell upon it. She did
not think now of how often she had told herself that she did not know
what the box was like. Now it seemed to have been the only box she had
ever known in her life. The cases on the top of it were heavy, and Molly
had to strain herself to move them, but she was very strong, and every
reserve of muscular power was called out unconsciously to meet her need.
She did not know that her hands were covered with dust, and that blood
was breaking through a scratch over the right thumb made by a jagged
nail.

When she came back into the drawing-room, Father Molyneux was sitting
with his back towards her, looking with unseeing eyes into the trees of
the park. She moved towards him and held out a long envelope.

"Take it away," she said, "If I have ruined your life, you have ruined
mine."

She moved with uncertain steps to the chimney-piece, leant upon it, and,
turning round, looked wildly at the envelope in his hands.

"Why didn't you come for it before?" she asked him.

Mark could not answer. He was absolutely astonished at what had
happened.