“Then you really tried to shoot Prince Berloff?”
“I did not. He fired the shots; so that he could say I fired and bring against me the charge of attempted assassination.”
“But,” said Drexel, reverting to her preceding statement, “you seemed to trust me at first.”
“Yes.”
“And then you did not?”
“Frankly—no.”
“You feared me as much as you did the police. Why?”
She did not answer.
“I am completely at a loss,” said he. “Come—why did you not trust me?”
“That,” said she steadily, “I cannot tell.”