“I’m in a mess, Junia. I’ve made some mistakes in my life, and I’m going to try and put one of them right.”
“Is anybody trying to do you harm?” she asked gently.
“Yes, somebody’s trying to hurt me.”
“Hurt him,” she rejoined sharply, and her eyes fastened his.
He was about to say there was no him in the matter, but reason steadied him, and he said:
“I’ll do my best, Junia. I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. What’s to be done must be done by myself alone.”
“Then it ought to be done well.”
With an instant’s impulse he moved towards her. She went to the window, however, and she said: “Here’s Fabian. You’ll be glad of that. You’ll want to say good-bye to him and Sibyl.” She ran from him to the front door. “Fabian—Fabian, here’s a bad boy who wants to tell you things he won’t tell me.” With these words she went into the garden.
“I don’t think he’ll tell me,” came Fabian’s voice. “Why should he?”
A moment afterwards the two men met.