Irons and Dangerfield, and the church-yard--there was a flash of association in the group and the background which accorded with an old suspicion.

Dangerfield, indeed, was innocently reading a leaf in his red and gilt leather pocket-book, as I have said.

But Irons's eyes met the glance of Mervyn, and contracted oddly, and altogether there gleamed out something indefinable in his look.

It was only for a second--a glance and an intuition; and from that moment it was one of Mervyn's immovable convictions, that Mr.
Dangerfield knew something of Irons's secret.

It was a sort of intermittent suspicion before--now it was a monstrous, but fixed belief.
So Mr.Irons glided swiftly on to the Salmon House, where, in a dark corner, he drank something comfortable; and stalked back again to the holy pile, with his head aching, and the world round him like a wild and evil dream..