“Did she perish?” he asked at last.
“She must have died in the old house. I did not stay to look after her. Fear lent speed to my limbs, and I ran like a deer. Not for the world would I have gone back.”
“You’ve killed the girl!” hissed Claude Lamont. “You’ve made a murderess out of yourself.”
Nora did not speak, but looked into the young man’s face and exposed anew the whiteness of her own.
“I suppose you haven’t been there since?” he said.
“What, go back to that spot? Never!”
Claude Lamont drained the glass at his elbow and seemed to take a long breath.
“What makes you fear this man, Carter? What did he ever do that gives you the chills?”
“That’s my secret,” cried the woman, half defiantly.
“What makes him your enemy, and, pray, what did you do that his name terrifies you?”