"
"Then you actually went out with a spy at night to keep an eye on
him--and shoot him if he spied?"
"I should probably have missed!" she laughed.
I was quite ready to swear by Jean Rendall now. Talk of pluck! I never
heard of a more fearless performance!
"Please understand, Mr. Merton," she went on earnestly, "that I should
never have dreamt of letting you know that I had recognised you--I
haven't even told father, I assure you!--only when I heard of this
dreadful death of Mr. Bolton--"
She paused and glanced at me, half apologetically, half beseechingly,
it seemed.
"Well?" I said.
"Well, I realised the danger you were in supposing anybody else
guessed. And I thought I'd come and speak to you. I'm afraid I
sometimes act on impulse."
"So do I," I confessed. "In fact I'm going to act on impulse now. Do you
care to hear some bits of the story you don't know?"
Her eyes absolutely danced.
"Oh, I'd love to! I've been longing--dying to know the rest of it!
I've guessed and guessed, but I haven't been able to make any sense
out of things!"
I remembered my uncle's injunctions distinctly. I also remembered my
cousin's cautions and my own good resolutions. A woman, of all things, I
was to beware of; but I knew I was perfectly safe to throw overboard the
whole collection of cautions: and already I had a strong suspicion I
should be far from a loser by it.
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