"Pshaw!" Balmayne growled. "She doesn't suspect anything. Her manner was too simple and natural for that. And the girl carries her goodness and purity in her face. Oh, you can laugh, but that girl lives in another world than ours. When I looked at her just now, she reminded me of what I might have been."
The Countess gave a low, scornful laugh. Balmayne sentimental was amusing. She had the profoundest contempt herself for girls of Hetty's type. It was always a mystery to her what men could see in them.
"Well, she saved us from murder tonight," Balmayne said, looking grimly down into the white face on the sofa. "By Jove, he's coming to!"
Maitrank stirred and stirred uneasily. Then he opened his eyes and stared round him. His quick, active mind was beginning to work. But those eyes were a little uneasy and fearsome as they saw both Leona and Balmayne there.
"What has happened?" Maitrank asked. "Have I been asleep or what? There's something that seems to burn into my brain. Have I been ill?"
"Looks like it!" said Balmayne. "You left here all right some time ago."
"I know. I remember that now. I said goodnight to the Countess--eh, eh, the Countess!--and there was a policeman outside talking to a man in evening dress. He said goodnight to me and I walked down the road. I don't recollect anything else."
He paused in some confusion. He had the profoundest respect for the cunning and audacity of the people with whom he had to deal. Was this some startling new plot that they had been working on him?
"Then how did I get back again?" he asked.
"I found you in the road," Balmayne said boldly. "I was going away from here, seeing that my services were no longer required. I happened to find you. I was just in time, for one of the street prowlers was going through your pockets. Probably your fur coat attracted his attention. It is fortunate----"