“I mean just what I have said,” Morrison continued hysterically. “If you go there they will watch you, they will follow you, they will find out where I am. I should be there now but for that.”
Laverick was silent for a moment. The matter was becoming serious.
“Very well,” he said, “I will do as you say. I will not go near your rooms. I will get you a few things somewhere to start with.”
Morrison sank back upon his pillow.
“Thank you, Laverick,” he said; “thank you. I wish—I wish—”
His voice seemed to die away. Laverick glanced towards him, wondering at the unfinished sentence. Once again the man’s face seemed to be convulsed with horror. He flung himself face downward upon the bed and tore at the sheets with both his hands.
“Don’t be a fool,” Laverick said sternly. “If you’ve anything on your mind apart from business, tell me about it and I’ll do what I can to help you.”
Morrison made no reply. He was sobbing now like a child. Laverick rose to his feet and went to the window. What was to be done with such a creature! When he got back, Morrison had raised himself once more into a sitting posture. His appearance was absolutely spectral.
“Laverick,” he said feebly, “there is something else, but I cannot tell you—I cannot tell any one.”
“Just as you please, of course,” Laverick answered. “I am simply anxious to help you.”