"
"Have you a servant?"
"Only a woman who comes at nine in the morning for an hour."
"Does she know Larry?"
"No."
"Friends, acquaintances?"
"No; I am very quiet. And since I knew your brother, I see no one.
Nobody comes here but him for a long time now."
"How long?"
"Five months."
"Have you been out to-day?"
"No."
"What have you been doing?"
"Crying."
It was said with a certain dreadful simplicity, and pressing her hands
together, she went on:
"He is in danger, because of me. I am so afraid for him." Holding up his
hand to check that emotion, he said:
"Look at me!"
She fixed those dark eyes on him, and in her bare throat, from which the
coat had fallen back, he could see her resolutely swallowing down her
agitation.
"If the worst comes to the worst, and this man is traced to you, can you
trust yourself not to give my brother away?"
Her eyes shone. She got up and went to the fireplace:
"Look! I have burned all the things he has given me--even his picture.
Now I have nothing from him."
Keith, too, got up.
"Good! One more question: Do the police know you, because--because of
your life?"
She shook her head, looking at him intently, with those mournfully true
eyes.
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