Her eyes sought the watch, which she still held. “It—it is ten minutes to eight,” she answered.
“Then you’ve yet time,” he pleaded. “Don’t argue. It won’t do any good. Get away—now, while you can.”
She lifted her eyes from the watch. He fancied her cheeks were flaming with color.
“Is—is the button to be pressed promptly at eight?” she questioned.
“Yes. Those were my orders. You must not——”
“But suppose something happened,” she interrupted, “to prevent the explosion?”
“What do you mean?”
“If the explosion doesn’t occur at eight o’clock—isn’t it probable it will not occur at all?”
“Miss Breen!” he half shouted. “Don’t stay here and waste time with such foolish questions. You——”
“If—if the explosion doesn’t come at eight—it won’t come at all. Isn’t that—right?” she burst out.