“How long have you known?”
“About six weeks.”
“So now I understand why we see you so seldom at tennis or the paper-chases.”
“Yes; and now that you do understand, perhaps you will help me and put people off when they ask tiresome questions.” She spoke with a catch in her voice. “I scarcely ever leave my aunt. I read and talk and play the piano, and do my best to keep her amused; I am very fond of Aunt Flora.”
“You must be!” he exclaimed sharply.
“But, indeed, she is not so much to blame as you suppose. Think of her loneliness and illness! Years of this relaxing climate and intense depression tempted her to seek relief, and once she had touched the drug it gripped her like a vice and made her a prisoner.”
“Whom you are struggling to release? Does Herr Krauss know?”
“No; he has no suspicion. No more had I till recently. Lily, the ayah, Mr. FitzGerald, you and I, are all that are in the secret.”
“It is much too heavy a load for your shoulders. Won’t you tell Mrs. Gregory? She is so practical and so safe, and full of clever expedients and energy.”
“No, I shall not open my lips; how could I? Mrs. Gregory is my loyal and kind friend; but once I began to take people into my confidence, I could never tell where it would end; soon it might be all over Rangoon that my aunt takes drugs. As it is I am making a little headway; we have diminished the quantity, and I have great hopes that the craving is less. Of course, I am obliged always to be on guard; that is why I am so rarely able to leave home. Herr Krauss talks of retiring in four months, and if I can only keep Aunt Flora safe until then, the day of our departure means the day of her escape. And now, please, let us talk of something more cheerful. I suppose you have heard about your friend, Mr. FitzGerald, and Miss Bliss?” And she threw him a charming confidential smile.