“Why pretend you were surprised to see me?” she laughed. “You were not; nor am I to see you. We are too old foes to pretend as to the non-essentials—when each knows them. The cards are on the table, Guy, play them open.”
“How many cards are on the table?” he asked.
“All of mine.”
“Then it’s double dummy—with a blind deck on the side.”
“Whose side?” she flashed back.
“Yours!” he returned pleasantly.
“What am I concealing?” she demanded.
“I don’t know. If I did—it would be easier for me.”
“The one thing I haven’t told you, I can’t tell you: the precise character of the business that brings me here. I’ve told you all I know—and broken my oath to do it. I can’t well do more, Guy.”
“No, you can’t well do more,” Harleston conceded. “And I can’t well do less under all the—admitted circumstances; inferentially and directly admitted.”