“Why, no,” she said, slowly, “I don’t believe it ever has.”
“Then realize it now. Truly, dear Miss Wheeler, I am not only the one who can best help you, but I am the only one who can help you at all—please try to see that.”
“Why should I want help?”
“For half a dozen very good reasons. First, I suppose you know that you are in no enviable position regarding the death of Mr. Appleby. Oh, I know you didn’t kill him——”
“But I did!”
“If you did, you couldn’t take it so calmly——”
“How dare you say I take it calmly? What do you know about it? Just because I don’t go about in hysterics—that’s not my nature—is no sign that I’m not suffering tortures——”
“You poor, sweet child—I know you are! Oh, little girl, dear little girl—can’t you—won’t you let me look out for you——”
The words were right enough, but the tone in which they were uttered, the look that accompanied them, frightened Maida. She knew at once how this man regarded her.
Intuition told her it was better not to resent his speech or meaning, so she only said, quietly: