“Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. I must!”
She threw open the door and pointed to it.
“My word holds,” she said. “If you speak—farewell.”
He stood quite silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon her face. Something he saw there had a curious effect upon him. He was suddenly calm.
“I shall not speak,” he said, “now or at any other time. Come!”
They went out together and he called a hansom. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them.