But her lips closed again.
"Sphinx!" he murmured with reproach.
"I like you too much, Mr. Hillard, to stand by and see you break your heart against a stone wall."
"Don't you see, the deeper the mystery is the more powerful the attraction becomes?"
The door to the lift opened and closed noisily, and Hillard turned negligently. A man sauntered through the room. The moment he came into the light Hillard's interest became lively enough: It was the handsome Italian with the scar.
"Who is that man?" he whispered. "Only a few weeks ago I bumped into him on coming out of the club."
A swift glance, then her eyes grew unfriendly, her shoulders rigid and repellent.
"Do not attract his attention," she answered in a low tone. "Yes, I know him, and I do not wish him to see me."
"Who is he?" he repeated.
"A Venetian officer, and a profligate. I entertained him once, but I learned from him that I had been ill-advised."