“I understand,” Harley interrupted, gently. “But—”
“No, no.” Phil Abingdon shook her head rebelliously. “Please ask me what you want to know. I came for that.”
He met the glance of violet eyes, and understood something of Doctor McMurdoch’s helplessness. He found his thoughts again wandering into strange, wild byways and was only recalled to the realities by the dry, gloomy voice of the physician. “Go on, Mr. Harley,” said Doctor McMurdoch. “She has grand courage.”
CHAPTER VII. CONFESSIONS
Paul Harley crossed the room and stood in front of the tall Burmese cabinet. He experienced the utmost difficulty in adopting a judicial attitude toward his beautiful visitor. Proximity increased his mental confusion. Therefore he stood on the opposite side of the office ere beginning to question her.
“In the first place, Miss Abingdon,” he said, speaking very deliberately, “do you attach any particular significance to the term ‘Fire-Tongue’?”
Phil Abingdon glanced rapidly at Doctor McMurdoch. “None at all, Mr. Harley,” she replied. “The doctor has already told me of—”
“You know why I ask?” She inclined her head.
“And Mr. Nicol Brinn? Have you met this gentleman?”