“You must. Isn’t there proof enough in what you have read?”
“There is some mistake.”
“No. There can’t be. Your sentiments are blinding you.”
“One moment, please.” Doris had risen and faced him across the hearth, a new fire of resolution in her eyes. To Rizzio, the lover of beauty, she was a mockery of lost happiness. She was Diana, not the huntress but the hunted.
“You have told me what Cyril Hammersley is. Now if you please I would like to know what you are!”
He paused a moment and then with a step toward her said gently:
“I think my interests should be fairly obvious. I am acting for the English Government.”
“I have only your word for it. Have you any papers that would prove it—in your card-case, for instance?”
He started back, his fingers instinctively reaching upward. Then he shrugged and laughed.
“You are surely the most amazing person. Unfortunately I have no documents. I am only doing my duty as a private citizen—a loyal resident of the Empire.”