"I don't know what you're a-driving at," said Mrs. Gwynn, still as white as death, and glancing furiously.
"Come, Mrs. Gwynn, you're a sensible woman. You do know perfectly. You have maintained a respectable character."
"Yes, sir!" said Donica Gwynn, and suddenly burst into a paroxysm of hysterical tears.
"Listen to me: you have maintained a respectable character, I know it: nothing whatever to injure that character shall ever fall from my lips; no human being—but two or three just as much interested in concealing all about it as you or I—shall ever know anything about it; and Sir Jekyl Marlowe has consented to take it down, so soon as the party at present at Marlowe shall have dispersed."
"Lady Alice—I'll never like to see her again," sobbed Donica.
"Lady Alice has no more suspicion of the existence of that door than the Pope of Rome has; and what is more, never shall. You may rely upon me to observe the most absolute silence and secrecy—nay, more, if necessary for the object of concealment—so to mislead and mystify people, that they can never so much as surmise the truth, provided—pray observe me—provided you treat me with the most absolute candour. You must not practise the least reserve or concealment. On tracing the slightest shadow of either in your communication with me, I hold myself free to deal with the facts in my possession, precisely as may seem best to myself. You understand?"
"Not Lady Alice, nor none of the servants, nor—nor a creature living, please."
"Depend on me," said Varbarriere.
"Well, sure I may; a gentleman would not break his word with such as me," said Donica, imploringly.
"We can't spend the whole day repeating the same thing over and over," said Varbarriere, rather grimly; "I've said my say—I know everything that concerns you about it, without your opening your lips upon the subject. You occupied that room for two years and a half during Sir Harry's lifetime—you see I know it all. There! you are perfectly safe. I need not have made you any promise, but I do—perfectly safe with me—and the room shall vanish this winter, and no one but ourselves know anything of that door—do you understand?—provided—"