Love and Hatred by Marie Belloc Lowndes

It had been a little after three o'clock when Katty Winslow entered Mr. Greville Howard's study -- and now it was half-past four. The room had grown gradually darker, but the fire threw out a glimmering light on the faces of the two sitting there.

All at once Katty realised, with a sense of acute discomfiture, that as yet her host had said nothing -- nothing, at least, that mattered. He had drawn out of her, with extraordinary patience, courtesy, and intelligence, all that _she_ could tell _him_ -- of what had happened before, and about the time of, Godfrey Pavely's death.