But Lily's problem was too complex for Pink's simple remedy. She was stricken with sudden conviction; the very mention of Willy Cameron gave Pink's statements authority. But to go like that, to leave Elinor in that house, with all that it implied, was impossible. And there was her own private problem to dispose of.
“I'll go this afternoon, Pink. I'll promise you that. But I can't go with you now. I can't. You'll have to take my word, that's all. And you must believe I didn't know.”
“Of course you didn't know,” he said, sturdily. “But I hate like thunder to go and leave you here.” He picked up his hat, reluctantly. “If I can do anything—”
Lily's mind was working more clearly now. This was the thing Louis Akers had been concerned with, then, a revolution against his country. But it was the thing, too, that he had promised to abandon. He was not a killer. She knew him well, and he was not a killer. He had got to a certain point, and then the thing had sickened him. Even without her he would never have gone through with it. But it would be necessary now to get his information quickly. Very quickly.
“Suppose,” she said, hesitatingly, “suppose I tell you that I think I am going to be able to help you before long?”
“Help? I want you safe. This is not work for women.”
“But suppose I can bring you a very valuable ally?” she persisted. “Some one who knows all about certain plans, and has changed his views about them?”
“One of them?”
“He has been.”
“Is he selling his information?”