"Precisely."
Granger started; the way in which that last word had been spoken had made Strangeways' meaning manifest. He blushed like a girl at the shame of it. "Surely you don't still distrust me? You don't think me such a sneak that, having got you out of the way, I'd let him slip by and out?"
"It looks like it."
"But, man, don't you realise that our interests are the same?"
"Since when?"
"Since you told me of a woman who was done to death on a Yukon river, and lay unburied all winter till the thaw came, and her body was washed down to a creek near Forty-Mile, where it lay through the summer naked, gazed upon, uncovered, and defiled."
"I fancy you knew all that when you helped Spurling to escape."
"Yes, but I didn't know that it was a woman, and I didn't know her name."
"And you don't know her name now."
"I do; it was Jervis Mordaunt who wore a man's disguise."