Helen made no comment. Though his eyes were lowered seemingly on the floor, she felt he was watching her and wondering whether she believed him. She thought it strange that he should have taken her into his confidence in regard to matters which one usually does not divulge to strangers. There were a number of questions on the tip of her tongue, but she thought it better to hold them back.
“I suppose,” Slade went on in melancholy tones, “that she told you the usual story of mistreatment and persecution?”
“She seemed very excited.” Helen weighed her words with care. “I don’t remember all she told me, but she said something of a fever that was gradually killing her, and she seemed very anxious to get away from this place.”
“Yes, the fever is one of her hallucinations. She imagines that she is suffering from a strange disease. And not only that but she thinks everybody around her afflicted with the same mysterious malady. The idea is firmly rooted in her mind that the disease has been deliberately communicated to her by enemies. No doubt she told you of a queer kind of laughter that is supposed to be one of the symptoms of the strange ailment.”
“She not only mentioned it, but she gave me a demonstration. It sounded a bit—creepy.”
“I can readily believe it. It must have been very unpleasant for you. I take it that she told the story convincingly enough to make an impression on you, or you would not have started to run away with her.”
He smiled as he spoke, and all at once Helen saw the reason for her instinctive dislike of him. The smile was of the lips only. There was no responsive gleam in his eyes. And his eyes, she now perceived, were hard and dispassionate as bits of porcelain.
“She frightened me, and I didn’t know what to think,” she guardedly admitted. “I suppose I followed her on the impulse of the moment. I do most things on impulse, you see.”
“That’s the privilege of youth.” He laughed, but his eyes were as glossy and expressionless as fish scales and seemed to veto his vocal merriment. “Luckily you wouldn’t have got further than the gate, even if Cæsar hadn’t intervened. It would be very embarrassing if Miss Neville should escape from us some night and expose her condition to the world. There is slight danger of that, though. I have taken all necessary precautions. However, your meeting Miss Neville here and noticing the state she is in, makes the situation rather awkward. I should dislike to have the matter get into the newspapers. I have been frank with you, hoping you would see the delicacy of the situation from my point of view.”
“I never gossip about people’s misfortunes,” declared Helen with emphasis.