"See who is in there," I repeated.
"There is nobody there," she said.
We did not take her word for it. Wheeler examined the apartment, and returning, said it was empty.
"Whom did you expect to find?' demanded Mrs. Fordham.
"Shall I give him a name?"
"You can do as you please about that."
"Oh, I thought you wanted to know."
"You shall suffer for this," she said, but curiosity was too much for her. "Give him a name, then."
"What do you say to a party of the name of Maxwell?"
She made no answer, but I observed that her face grew suddenly white, as had been the case with Madame Lourbet when I made a good shot. In dealing with self-willed women this is always a satisfactory sign. My observation of the tender sex leads me to another conclusion—the most obstinate of them when the barriers are broken down show the most fear, and are the most subservient and submissive, though I am bound to say this was not exactly the case with Mrs. Fordham. But then she was an exceptional woman, and she hated John Fordham as only a woman can hate.