“And yet,” she said earnestly, “possible or impossible, it is nevertheless true. That he might have succeeded in eluding me on occasions was perhaps to be expected; but that in all those years I should not catch him once in what, if you are correct, must have been many and repeated conferences with the same men is too improbable to be thought of seriously.”
Jimmie Dale shook his head again.
“If you had been able to watch him night and day, that might be so,” he said crisply. “But, at best, you could only watch him a very small portion of the time.”
She smiled at him a little wanly.
“Do you think, Jimmie, from what you, as the Gray Seal, know of me, that I would have watched in any haphazard way like that?”
He glanced at her with a sudden start.
“What do you mean?” he asked quickly.
“Look at me!” she said quietly. “Have you ever seen me before? I mean as I am now.”
“No,” he answered, after an instant. “Not that I know of.”
“And yet”—she smiled wanly again—“you have not lived, or made the place you hold in the underworld, without having heard of Silver Mag.”