Still she did not answer.
"Will you knowingly help to levy blackmail, and to bring about additional murders?"
She burst into tears. "How do I know what to do?" she wailed. "You haven't proved what you say! How do I know what your game is? I have nothing—not a sou! Where am I to go! How could I live?"
Notwithstanding her pretended astonishment, indignation, dismay, Jack saw that she had always been secretly conscious of living over a volcano. She had no doubt resolutely averted her face from it, but had dwelt in daily expectation of this dreadful scene.
"As to the means of existence, you need not worry," said Jack. "I shall take care of that."
"You?"
He saw that he had gone too far. "I mean Bobo of course. It is his game I am playing."
"Who was murdered?" she asked abruptly.
"Silas Gyde for one; Ames Benton for another."
"Anarchists committed those crimes."