“Befriend me? I am sure one could not ask for a more charming friend,” said he, smiling gallantly, but now evincing a shade of interest.
“No flattery, Monsieur! It is purely a personal matter with me; this is by no means a pleasure trip. I am running a great risk, but it is for my own sake as much as for yours, so do not thank me. I came from Paris on this train because I could not speak to you at the Gare du Nord. You were watched too closely.”
“Watched? What do you mean?” almost gasped Quentin.
“I can only say that you are in danger and that you have incurred the displeasure of a man who brooks no interference.”
He stared at her for a moment, his mind in a whirl. The thought that she might be mad grew, but was instantly succeeded by another which came like a shock.
“Is this man of noble blood?”
“Yes,” she almost whispered, turning her eyes away.
“And he means to do me harm?”
“I am sure of it.”
“Because?”