“You,” she answered. “You enjoy keeping him wondering what you are going to do with him, just as you enjoyed seeing me tied to that chair and would have liked to leave me there.”
“My dear Ella!” he protested. “My dear child!”
“Oh, I know,” she said wearily. “Why don't you hand the man over to the police if you're going to, or let him go at once if you mean to do that?”
“Let him go, indeed!” exclaimed Deede Dawson. “What an idea! What should I do that for?”
“If you'll give me another chance,” said Dunn quickly, “I'll do anything—I should get it pretty stiff for this lot, and that wouldn't be any use to you, sir, would it? I can do almost anything—garden, drive a motor, do what I'm told, It's only because I've never had a chance I've had to take to this line.”
“If you could do what you're told you certainly might be useful,” said Deede Dawson slowly. “And I don't know that it would do me any good to send you off to prison—you deserve it, of course. Still—you talk sometimes like an educated man?”
“I had a bit of education,” Dunn answered.
“I see,” said Deede Dawson. “Well, I won't ask you any more questions, you'd probably only lie. What's your name?”
With that sudden recklessness which was a part of his impulsive and passionate nature, Dunn answered:
“Charley Wright.”