“Dad,” I said, “I have seen Zyp!”
He only looked at me in wonder.
“She was coming to implore my help to enable her and—and her husband to escape—to get away abroad somewhere.”
“Escape? From what?”
“That man—my one-time friend—that I told you about. He has pursued them all the year with deadly hatred. Jason is half-mad with terror of him, it seems.”
My father’s face darkened.
“He summoned his own Nemesis,” he said. “What do they want—money?”
“Yes. I promised her what I could afford. To-morrow I must run up to London to raise it.”
“On what security?”
“A mortgage, I suppose. I have some small investments in house property.”