“No.”
Dennison twisted about until he had his shoulders against the brass rail of the bed head.
“What happened?”
“It was a trick. It was not to talk about you—he wanted the beads, and that made me furious.”
“Were you hurt in the struggle?”
“There wasn’t any. I really don’t know what possessed me. Perhaps I was a bit hypnotized. Perhaps I was curious. Perhaps I wanted—some excitement. On my word, I don’t know just what happened. Anyhow, here I am—in a dinner gown, bound for Hong-Kong, so he says. He offered me ten thousand for the beads, and my freedom, if I would promise not to report his high-handedness; and I haven’t uttered a sound.” 93
“Heaven on earth, why didn’t you accept his offer?”
A moment of silence.
“In the first place, I haven’t the beads. In the second place, I want to make him all the trouble I possibly can. Now that he has me, he doesn’t know what to do with me. Hoist by his own petard. Do you want the truth? Well, I’m not worried in the least. I feel as if I’d been invited to some splendiferous picnic.”
“That’s foolish,” he remonstrated.