"Of God?"
"That is a matter between Him and myself."
"Ah, well," said Laurence, recovering his self-control, "we had better perhaps avoid anything approaching a theological discussion. But tell me one thing. Who is this Carson?"
"Why, who should he be."
"Well, he might, for instance, be impersonating the unfortunate man who was murdered in Athelstane Place."
Mrs. Arne's hands never stopped. Her colour never changed. "You have imagination, I see," she observed coldly. "That is a pity. It is apt to get people into trouble."
"Oh, as to that, I have trouble enough; and now that I have determined to join you, I shall probably have a good deal more."
"That is very possible. We are hunted like rats. Why do you wish to join us?"
"God knows," said Mallow, with a shrug.
"I also know. It is because Mrs. Carson will have nothing to say to you. It is in your despair you come to us, to throw your life away."