“What makes you think she isn’t?” asked Lexy cautiously.
He looked straight into her face.
“You’re playing with me,” he said. “You’re fencing with me, to make me give myself away; and it’s a pretty rotten thing to do!”
“Rotten?” Lexy repeated indignantly. “Rotten, not to answer questions from a perfect stranger?”
“Yes,” he said, “it is; because that’s a question you could answer for any one. I’ve only asked you if Miss Enderby is—all right.”
This high-handed tone didn’t suit Lexy at all. He was actually presuming to be angry, and that made her angry.
“I shan’t tell you anything at all,” she said, and began to walk on again.
He put on his hat and turned away, but in a moment he was back at her side.
“Look here!” he said. “Caroline told me you were her friend. She said you could be trusted. All right—I am trusting you. I’ve felt, all along, that there was—something wrong. I’ve got to know! If you’ll give me your word that she’s safe at home, I’ll clear out, and apologize for having made a first-class fool of myself; but if she’s not, I ought to know!”
Lexy stopped again. Their eyes met in a long, steady glance.