She seemed suddenly to lose some part of that serenity which as yet he had never seen even ruffled. She was distinctly paler.
'You must be careful—please promise that you will be careful,' she begged.
'This isn't New York,' he reminded her.
'But that man is a perfect devil,' she persisted earnestly. 'He is a professional murderer. He has no feeling, no mercy, and he is so cunning. And behind him there is Kessner and all his millions.'
Lavendale shrugged his shoulders.
'All the millions that were ever owned,' he said, 'wouldn't help a man over here against the law. I am not afraid of Courlander. There is nothing he could try which I am not prepared for, and if it comes to a hand-to-hand struggle, I don't think I have anything to fear from him.'
'I don't like it,' she told him frankly. 'You will be on your guard, won't you?'
His voice softened.
'Of course I will, but, Miss de Freyne—Suzanne—why don't you like it? Why do you worry about me at all?'
She was silent for a moment. She had turned a little towards the window, her eyes had lost their usual directness. He took a step forward.