The look of troubled distress deepened in her face.
"You mean to live there—alone?"
"It depends how I get along with the dog and the prize-fighter," I said. "If they turn out amiable I shall probably invite them to stay on."
Christine pushed away her untasted cup of coffee and drew her chair a little nearer the table.
"Mr. Dryden," she said again, "you were telling me the truth just now. You do honestly believe that I am trying to act in your own interests?"
"I trust you from the bottom of my heart," I answered simply.
"Then, whatever you do, don't go to Greensea Island by yourself. Take some friend with you—somebody that you can absolutely rely on. I can't explain, but there are reasons which would make it very unsafe for you to be there alone." She hesitated for a moment. "It's even possible you might be in danger of your life."
"Isn't it just a little late to tell me that?" I asked.
Her hand, which was resting on the cloth, suddenly tightened.
"What do you mean?"