Charles cut the quarrel short by flinging out of the house in the rain, to carry out his intention of interviewing his uncle.

He walked across the moors to Flint House.

The front door was open, the downstairs portion of the house in darkness, and his uncle lying upstairs in his study--dead.
He hurried over all this as of small importance in the deeper significance of Thalassa's story.

That was to him the great thing--the wonderful discovery which was to clear Sisily and put everything right.

He believed that the plan which had brought him to Cornwall was working splendidly.
The chance encounter with the detective was really providential--a speeding up, a saving of valuable time.
The possibility of disbelief did not dawn upon him.