‘There is much to tell you,’ says he impatiently. ‘But no time in which to tell it.’
‘About—’ Her face pales, and she looks eagerly at him, laying even a restraining hand upon his arm in her growing fear.
‘Yes—about that fellow.’
‘Mr. Moore?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, you will stay—you will tell me!’ cries she, in low but panting tones. ‘Oh, don’t leave me in suspense. Even if you can’t stay now, you can come back again, if only for five minutes! Oh, do! You will? He—’ She looks as if she were going to faint.
‘There is no need for fear of that sort,’ says he quickly. ‘He knows nothing of you, or where you are. Yes, if I can’—reluctantly—‘I will come back.’
He follows the others now, and as he reaches Susan and Carew, they all three distinctly hear the click of the lock of the garden-gate behind them.
Susan looks at Wyndham in a startled way.
‘I—I think someone must have been very unkind to her,’ says she; ‘don’t you? To lock herself up like that, and never to want to see anybody. Mr. Wyndham, why don’t you try to find out her enemies?’