“I can well believe that,” he said, grimly.
Kenyon was silent for a space, and the two watched him with interest; there could be no question but that, whatever their enterprise, it was expected of Kenyon to make the move that would bring things to a crisis. So far he had been kept dodging their questions; Forrester had told him that they had tidings of importance for him, and he was anxious to hear what it was. So he asked, carelessly:
“What have you been doing in the meantime?” looking from one to the other. “Anything that might interest me?”
“The girl, as you see, suspects something,” said Hong Yo. “There is no telling how deeply she was in the old man’s confidence. He loved her as he loved no one else; and trusted her in many things, as we now find.”
“That,” put in Farbush, “has always been an uncertain point to me. If he trusted her so, how much did he tell her?”
Kenyon found the eyes of both fixed steadily upon him; and the expectancy in their gaze gave him his cue.
“I’m supposed to have inside information right here,” he thought. “But then the sphinx-like attitude, I think, is the safest: and it seems to tickle Hong Yo. So I had better maintain it.”
So he smiled enigmatically and shook his head.
“She knows less than you think,” said he.
There was a deep frown upon Farbush’s face, and he rapped out sharply: