A sudden light of rage lit up Henson's blue eyes. He caught Enid almost roughly by the shoulders and pushed her into the drawing-room. There was something coming, she knew. It was a relief a minute or two later to hear Williams's whistle as he crossed the courtyard. Henson knew nothing of Van Sneck's presence, nor was he likely to do so now.
"You are forgetting yourself," Enid said. "How dare you touch me like that?"
"By heavens," Henson whispered, vehemently, "when I consider how I have been fooled by you I wonder that I do not strike the life out of you. Where is your sister?"
Enid assumed an air of puzzled surprise. She raised her eyebrows, coldly. But it needed no very brilliant intelligence to tell her that Henson had discovered something.
"I had only one sister," she said, "and she is—"
"Dead! Rot. No more dead than I am. A nice little scheme you had put up together with that scribbling ass David Steel. But Steel is going to get a lesson not to interfere in my affairs, and you are going to get one also. Where is your sister?"
Despite his bullying triumph there was something nervous and anxious about the tone of the question. It was not quite like Henson to let his adversary see that he had scored a point. But since the affair of the dogs Henson had not been quite his old self. It was easy to see that he had found out a great deal, but he had not found out where Chris was yet.
"I know nothing," said Enid. "I shall answer no questions."
"Very well. But I shall find out. Accident put me on the trail first. And I have been to see that man Walker. He never saw your sister after her 'death,' nor did the undertaker. And I might have met my death at the fangs of that dog you put upon me. What a fool Walker was."
Enid looked up a little anxiously. Had Walker said anything about a second opinion? Had he betrayed to Henson the fact that he had been backed up by Hatherly Bell? Because they had taken a deal of trouble to conceal the fact that Bell had been in the house.