“You win!” he said hoarsely.
“Thank you, Jimmie,” she said simply.
“And your name, who you are”—he was speaking, but he did not seem to recognise his own voice—“the hundred other things I've sworn I'd make you explain when I found you, are all taboo as well, I suppose!”
“Yes,” she said.
He laughed bitterly.
“Don't you know,” he cried out, “that between the police and the underworld, our house of cards is likely to collapse at any minute—that they are hunting the Gray Seal day and night! Is it to be always like this—that I am never to know—until it is too late!”
She came toward him out of the darkness impulsively.
“They will never get you, Jimmie,” she said, in a suppressed voice. “And some day, I promise you now, you shall have your reward for to-night. You shall know—everything.”
“When?” The word came from him with fierce eagerness.
“I do not know,” she answered gently. “Soon, perhaps—perhaps sooner than either of us imagine.”