"And do you suppose a detective values his life if by his death he can bring notorious criminals to justice?" I asked.
"What exactly do you mean?"
We might have been discussing some commonplace question across a tea table.
"For the sake of argument, let us suppose one or two of your confederates have not hoodwinked me so completely as you have done. You can understand the possibility and appreciate the probable result."
"Do I look like a woman to be frightened by such a thin story?" she asked.
"Certainly not. You are so reckless a person you have, no doubt, courage to face any unpleasant consequence which may arise."
"I have wit enough to know that prevention is better than cure," she returned. "Within an hour, Mr. Wigan, my confederates and all who could possibly witness against me will be on board this yacht. How long some of them will remain on board I have not yet decided."
She was evidently not afraid. Her plans must be very complete.
"As I cannot be allowed to live, a sketch of your career would interest me. It would serve to pass the time."
"The past does not concern me, the future does," she answered. "You may appreciate my general idea of making things safe. I fancy this yacht will be cast away on a lonely spot on the French coast. I know the spot, and I expect one or two persons will be drowned. That will be quite natural, won't it? Should the accident chance to be heard of at Folkestone, it will be surmised that I am drowned. Bodies do not always come ashore, you know. One thing is quite certain; Mrs. Selborne and all trace of her will have disappeared."