“She is ill, m’sieur, very ill, and she is alone. There is no one but me now. My brother—he is dead. It is for her that I have done—this—this thing to-night. If I do not return to her—if you do not let me go back—she will die, m’sieur. I tell you she will die.”
If she was acting it was good acting. Half convinced against his will of her sincerity, and half doubtfully, he came to a standstill.
“Where do you live—is it far from here?”
“It is in this street, m’sieur. It is not far.” He could feel her arm quivering in the grip of his nippers.
“Maybe I’m makin’ a sucker of myself,” he said dubiously, defining the diagnosis as much to himself as to her. “But if it ain’t far I might walk you back there and give this here sister of yours the once-over. And then if you ain’t lyin’ we’ll see——”
“Must I go so?” She lifted her hand up, indicating her meaning.
[78]
“You bet your life you’re goin’ that way or not at all. I’m takin’ no more chances with you.”
“But it would kill her—she would die to see me so. She must not know I have done this thing, m’sieur. She must not see this——” The little chain rattled.
“Come on,” he ordered in a tone of finality. “I thought that sick sister gag was old stuff, but I was goin’ to give you a show to make good——”
“But I swear——”