Cora uttered this combination of truth and falsehood without the least compunction. If she could have warned him of the danger hanging over them without jeopardizing herself, she would have done so. But that, she knew, was impossible.
He had planned this "game" which now bade fair to be such an utter failure, and if anyone must suffer, why, let it be him. And then, too, she reasoned, she had not gathered from the words of Madeline that she suspected Mr. Davlin of duplicity of any kind. As for the Professor, Cora cared little what became of him. She could gain nothing and might, doubtless would, lose much by warning him.
Lastly, Cora assured herself that were their positions reversed, and Lucian the one who saw that his own safety lay in leaving her to her fate, he would not scruple to make her his scapegoat. And in this she was quite right.
Again the man seemed to puzzle over some knotty, mental question. Then he arose, and leaning against the window frame in a favorite attitude, glanced across at Percy and the spinster as he asked, slowly: "Did she say anything about me?"
Cora looked up in genuine surprise. "About you? No; why should she?"
"I mean," he said, "did she say anything to cause you to think that she suspected us?"
"No," shortly; "why should she? She never saw either of us until yesterday."
"What do you think brought her back here just now?"
"It's easy enough to see why she came back. She has heard of the insanity of Mr. Arthur, and has come, as she said, to take possession of her own."
Another pause; then Cora said: "Is the Professor 'up' to anything new?"