"I am. I am."
"No!" She seized him by the shoulders and stared into his face.
"You're different, your eyes, your mouth. Who are you?"
"Anthony Barraclough!" he cried.
"It's not true. Anthony would never have stood this. The men, yes.
The torture, yes, but he always gives way to a woman. Who are you?"
"I've said," he answered brokenly. "I've said."
A turmoil of thoughts raced through her mind and she spoke them aloud.
"Anthony away getting the concession. You here taking his place. It was clever—clever. Damn them for letting you do it. And you've done it so wonderfully—borne all this when at a word you might——"
"Talking nonsense," he moaned desperately.
"And you don't know what the secret is. No one but Anthony does.
That's true, isn't it?"
"I do know. I do know—won't say."