"Not even—whom did you mean?" he asked.
"Never mind; it was a slip; I forgot."
"Lenise Elroy?" asked Hector calmly.
"Yes, I thought of her."
"And you think she, even that woman, would not recognize me?"
"I am certain she would not. She might have done so when you escaped, but not now. Your illness has changed you in a very strange way. I can hardly believe you are Hector sometimes," said Picton.
"Then I must be safe," he said, smiling. "Speaking of Mrs. Elroy," he went on, "did I tell you I saw her in Torquay?"
"No," said Picton surprised. "Where? Are you sure?"
"I was passing a hotel when something prompted me to cross the road and look in at the window. I saw her seated at the supper table, laughing gayly with people, a man beside her, probably her lover, he seemed infatuated with her. She is still very beautiful, the same luring smile, and eyes like stars; you can imagine how I felt. The sight was too much for me, as I contrasted her position with mine. I raised my hands and appealed to God for justice. My prayer was answered, for a little farther on, as I staggered down the road, I came across that great-hearted fellow Brack. You know the rest."
"Yes, I know the rest," said Picton.