“It's as plain as a pike-staff.” He bent forward, lowering his voice. “He was mixed up with Prince Rogovich. He's one of the people who's hunting for you. In his company you won't be suspected. He'll get you across all the frontiers.”
She was still reluctantly incredulous. “But the things he said at dinner. He played with us like a cat.”
“He wasn't playing with us.” Hindwood became eager in his determination to convince her. “He was playing into our hands. He knows all the things that we want to know. Every move the police make is telegraphed to him. It was the frankness with which he let us into his secrets that was so alarming.”
“Then how must we act?”
“The way we have been acting. Until it's safe to be rid of him, we must keep him believing that we're married, and none too happily. I'm afraid it's up to you to keep him lulled by pretending——”
“Don't;” she closed her eyes. “It's like going back to the ugly past.”
“It's beastly, I know.” He spoke seriously. “But what else——? Any moment he may recall where last he saw you. Sleep over it. We can decide in the morning.”
V
All night he had been haunted by the oppressive sense that, if he did not watch, something terrible would, happen. It was shortly after dawn when he rose. Stepping into the corridor he found that he had the train to himself. It seemed as depopulated as an early morning house and, despite the clamor of its going, as silent. He placed himself near Santa's door and stood staring out at the misty landscape streaking past like a trail of smoke. It was here that Santa found him when she slipped from her compartment.
He turned quickly. “He's not up yet.” Then, noticing her pallor and the shadows under her eyes, “You haven't slept?”