He had just completed the story of his success, and her delight in it had held the woman forgetful of those things she had yet to tell to him.
But now, in the silence which had followed, a flood of recollection spread over her. She searched for a beginning with a brave desire to reveal as little of the disquiet which haunted her as possible.
"I have no such success to recount," she said at last, gazing up at the strong face above her with a tender smile of confidence. "I have heard from Von Salzinger, as I knew I should after that evening in—the car."
"Ah!"
Ruxton laid a hand firmly over one of Vita's, which rested on the arm of the chair. It was a gesture which had in it all a strong man's promise of protection. To Vita it conveyed a sensation of exquisite reassurance.
"Oh, it all seems so futile," she cried, with a sudden helplessness. "I mean when you think of the terrible Secret Service which seems to know everything. No one in England except ourselves knows of such a person as Valita von Hertzwohl. As for my home, only my father knows that. I have kept it secret even from you. And yet this Von Salzinger comes to England and—calls upon me. The refuge I had so carefully prepared for my father in case of emergency is—no refuge at all. I believe I am terrified."
"Tell me more." Ruxton leant forward in his chair. All satisfaction at the thought of his own affairs had died out of his expressive eyes. They were full of concern and sympathy for the woman he loved. "Where is this home? I had better know—now."
Vita smiled tenderly. His trifling emphasis on the final word helped to banish something of her fears. It was the reminder of the bond between them.
"It is the sweetest of aged Elizabethan farms in Buckinghamshire. It is called Redwithy Farm, and is less than two miles from Wednesford. It is the most romantically beautiful place you could find anywhere, small, but—I love it." She sighed deeply. "I was out riding when he called. I had no alternative but to see him."
"Why?" The man's earnest gaze was steady. His alert mind was seeking something, nor did he know the nature of what he sought.