“Hush!” the girl looked round fearfully. “No, I am not mad, Anthony,” she said beneath her breath. “God knows I often wish I were.”
Then Anthony looked at her.
“Cecily! I can't believe it. You didn't——”
“Did you never suspect—that?” she questioned beneath her breath.
“Never! Before Heaven, never! How should I? It is inconceivable! But the horrible danger——” His eyes voiced the dread he dared not put into words, and with a stifled cry the girl turned from him.
Tony took off his hat and wiped away the sweat that was standing in great drops on his forehead.
“It—it isn't possible! Cecily!” he murmured hoarsely. “It—it is a lie!”
“I—I wish it was!” the girl said beneath her breath. “Oh, Tony, Tony, I wish it was all a dream—a dreadful horrible dream. Last night I woke and thought it was, and then I remembered. Oh, Tony, Tony!” She shivered from head to foot. “I wish I were dead—oh, I wish I were dead!”
Anthony mopped his forehead again. “In God's name what are we to do?”
Cecily's mouth twisted in something like a wry smile.