He was silent.
“If it is a love affair, I’ll stop now—not a question, you understand. If it is not—well, as an older and more battered and world-worn man, I’m going to make a suggestion to you—with your permission.”
“Make it,” he said, quietly.
“Then I will. Don’t talk to Mademoiselle Elven. You, Speed, and I know something about a certain conspiracy; we are going to know more before we inform the captain of that cruiser out there beyond Point Paradise. I know Mademoiselle Elven—slightly. I am afraid of her—and I have not yet decided why. Don’t talk to her.”
“But—I don’t know her,” he said; “or, at least I don’t know her by that name.”
After a moment I said: “Is the person in question the companion of the Countess de Vassart?”
“If she is I do not know it,” he replied.
“Was she once an actress?”
“It would astonish me to believe it!” he said. 256
“Then who do you believe sent you that message, Kelly?”