“You lie!” He was right there; but he could not know it.
“Do you suppose I haven’t taken that precaution? But no names are mentioned.” He gave a sort of groan, sank into a chair, and seemed to age and grizzle before our very eyes.
“What did you say about immunity, and Clara?” he muttered.
“We’re friends—we’re friends!” burst out Davies, with a gulp in his voice. “We want to help you both.” (Through a sudden mist that filmed my eyes I saw him impetuously walk over and lay his hand on the other’s shoulder.) “Those chaps are on our track and yours. Come with us. Wake her, tell her. It’ll be too late soon.”
X—— shrank from his touch. “Tell her? I can’t tell her. You tell her, boy.” He was huddling back into his chair. Davies turned to me.
“Where’s her room?” I said, sharply.
“Above this one.”
“Go up, Carruthers,” said Davies.
“Not I—I shall frighten her into a fit.”
“I don’t like to.”