"If you think this young girl knows me, or that I know her, you are greatly mistaken. She is as much of a stranger to me as I am to her, and I take this opportunity of saying so. I hope my liberty and good name are not to be made dependent upon the word of a miserable waif like this."
"Your liberty and your good name will depend upon your innocence," retorted Mr. Gryce, and said no more, feeling himself at a disadvantage before the imperturbability of this man and the silent, non-accusing attitude of this woman, from the shock of whose passions he had anticipated so much and obtained so little.
Meantime they were moving rapidly towards Police Headquarters, and fearing that the sight of that place might alarm Miss Oliver more than was well for her, he strove again to rouse her by a kindly word or so. But it was useless. She evidently tried to pay attention and follow the words he used, but her thoughts were too busy over the one great subject that engrossed her.
"A bad case!" murmured Mr. Van Burnam, and with the phrase seemed to dismiss all thought of her.
"A bad case!" echoed Mr. Gryce, "but," seeing how fast the look of resolution was replacing her previous aspect of frenzy, "one that will do mischief yet to the man who has deceived her."
The stopping of the carriage roused her. Looking up, she spoke for the first time.
"I want a police officer," she said.
Mr. Gryce, with all his assurance restored, leaped to the ground and held out his hand.
"I will take you into the presence of one," said he; and she, without a glance at Mr. Van Burnam, whose knee she brushed in passing, leaped to the ground, and turned her face towards Police Headquarters.