CHAPTER VIII
(1)
"I asked you to come round, my dear Bisham," said the Archdeacon; "I asked you to come round, because I want your advice on a matter of conscience."
"It's hardly for me, sir" Dunkle began diffidently.
"Yes, it is;" said the Archdeacon: "Indeed it is for you or nobody. You alone can do what is required to set my mind at rest. And so, not to waste words, let me tell you that it is my wish to take the world into our secret, to confess, in short, that I am the author of 'Trixie.'"
"Now," thought Dunkle, "what the
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