“Who can tell? You’ve been badly frightened,” he said in as soothing a tone as he could command. “Try to believe that no harm can come to you here, and that I—I would give the blood of my heart to save you from harm or danger. You said you could trust me. What was your errand with Ely Crouch?”
“Money.”
“Money!” he repeated, drawing back.
“It was our own; my sister’s and mine. Mr. Crouch had it. He had managed our affairs since my father’s death. I could never get an accounting from him. To-day the doctor told me that Alice must go away at once for an operation. And to-day Mr. Crouch made this appointment for to-night.”
“Didn’t you know his reputation? Weren’t you afraid?”
“I didn’t think of fear. When I told him how matters stood, he offered me money, but—but—Oh, I can’t tell you!”
“No need,” he said quickly. “I know what he is. I was joking when I spoke of killing him, a little while ago. By God, I wish I had killed him! It isn’t too late now.”
“It is too late.”
Her eyes, dilated, were fixed upon his.
“Why? How—too late?” he stammered.