Her look questioned.
“You must sleep in my room tonight, next to Betty’s. I shall sleep in yours.”
Her weary eyes sought his with an effort.
“You mean you think Rizzio—would still——?”
She paused.
“Yes, he thinks you would not give them to me.” And then, with a laugh, “You wouldn’t, you know.”
“And if I tell him I have burned them——”
“He will not believe you.”
“He would not believe me,” she repeated in a daze.
“You must do what I ask,” Cyril went on quietly. “I know what is best. I’ll arrange it with Betty.” He glanced at his watch. “One o’clock. By Jove! It’s time even for auction players.”