M. Fournier was encouraged to continue his plea.
"But to possess sufficient friends so that one may choose the adequate instrument,--ah, that is the privilege of women!" He added timidly, "Of women who have youth and beauty," but in a voice so low that the words hardly reached Miranda's ears, and their significance was not understood by her at all.
"I have not many friends," she returned frankly, "but I have one who would be adequate. I cannot tell whether I can bring myself to--I mean I cannot tell whether he could go; he has duties. It is asking much to ask any man to set out into Morocco on such an errand. However, I must think of it; I could at all events send for him and tell him of my husband--"
M. Fournier interposed quickly: "He knows nothing of Ralph Warriner?"
"He believes my husband dead."
"Then why should he not continue to believe your husband dead?" asked Fournier, with a sly cunning. "It is Mr. Jeremy Bentham he goes out to find,--a friend of yours--a relation perhaps--is it not so? We can keep Ralph Warriner dead for a while longer."
The little man's intention was becoming obvious.
"Why?" asked Miranda, sharply.
"It would be more prudent."
"I don't understand."