"I don't—care for you enough," she gasped.
"You will very soon," he answered reassuringly. "I really can make myself quite an agreeable companion. You haven't seen enough of me yet. Of course I know I'm rather taking you by storm, but I am not going to leave you alone in a strange city, indulging in some melodramatic game of hide and seek. You don't need to do that, Virginia. I am quite as rich as ever you will want to be, and if any one has suffered in America through your carelessness I think I can make amends for you more completely than you can by trying to break the laws of this country. You know, dear, I am not curious, but I really think you had better tell me all about it. It will make things much easier."
She shook her head.
"It isn't my secret," she answered, "and besides, it's a dangerous one. Whoever has the paper which was stolen through my carelessness, and which I am going to try and get back, goes every moment in danger of his life."
He smiled at her a little unbelievingly.
"That may be all very well in New York," he said, "but here in London one doesn't do such things. One keeps the law here, for we have an incorruptible police."
"You don't understand," she said sadly. "This is really something great."
"Can't you buy this paper or whatever it is?" he asked, "or rather couldn't I buy it for you?"
She shook her head.
"The man who has it refused a million dollars for it," she said simply.
"Indeed, I must not tell you anything more. Please, Mr. Mildmay—"