"I understand more than you think!" he answered.
She turned her startled eyes upon him.
"What do you mean?" she cried.
"I mean that the man whom we employed to trace the whereabouts of Phyllis Poynton and her brother arrived from Paris last night," he answered. "He wanted a list of Lord Runton's house party. Can you guess why?"
"Go on!"
"Mr. Fielding, of New York, left Havre on Saturday——"
"Stop!"
Her voice was a staccato note of agony. Between the fingers which were pressed to her face he could see the slow, painful flushing of her cheeks.
"Why did you come to tell me this?" she asked in a low tone.
"You know," he answered.