“How do you know?” demanded Molly, and again she looked frightened.
“Now, see here, Molly,” Wise tried again, “if you’ll tell us the truth you’ll be rewarded. But if you don’t, you’ll not only lose your reward but you’ll find yourself in the biggest pickle you’ve ever been in.”
“I’m not afraid,” was the pert reply. “My husband will look after me.”
“Yes, if he is your husband,” Zizi jeered, and saw again that Molly’s greatest fear was that the wedding had not been a real one.
Therefore, Zizi argued, there had been a ceremony and why would it have taken place except to shut Molly’s mouth? And who could have been the bridegroom except the one interested in suppressing Molly’s secret, whatever it might be?
“Clear out, Molly,” said Wise, suddenly. “Don’t clear far, for if you try to leave this house you’ll be arrested. Merely go about your work as usual, and say nothing to anybody. If you’ll take my advice you’ll run pretty straight, for I don’t mind telling you you’re in deep waters!”
“It’s a bad lookout, Ziz,” said Wise after Molly had gone; “any way you take it it comes back to either the Pralls or the Everetts. There’s no other bunch of women implicated. I’ve been into everything thoroughly and if we go by that written message of Binney’s,—and how can we ignore it?—we’ve got to get women, and the women are the——”
“The Everetts,” said Zizi moodily.
“Oh, no, the Pralls!”
“When you say the Pralls, you mean Miss Letitia and Miss Gurney, I suppose.”