“Go on,” he said grimly. “I know you have been to Sin Sin Wa’s. What happened the last time?”
“Well,” continued Rita hurriedly, “Monte seemed to be vaguely suspicious. Besides, Mrs. Sin charged me most preposterously. I really cannot afford it, Lucy.”
“I am glad you cannot. But what I was about to say was this: suppose you were to be deprived, not of chandu, but of cocaine and veronal, do you know what would happen to you?”
“Oh!” whispered Rita, “why will you persist in trying to frighten me! I am not going to be deprived of them.”
“I persist, dear, because I want you to try, gradually, to depend less upon drugs, so that if the worst should happen you would have a chance.”
Rita stood up and faced him, biting her lip.
“Lucy,” she said, “do you mean that Kazmah—”
“I mean that anything might happen, Rita. After all, we do possess a police service in London, and one day there might be an accident. Kazmah has certain influence, but it may be withdrawn. Rita, won’t you try?”
She was watching him closely, and now the pupils of her beautiful eyes became dilated.
“You know something,” she said slowly, “which you are keeping from me.”