“So, madam,” he said, “you desire this interview to be kept secret. Will you kindly inform me what its purpose is?”
“Does my name suggest it to you?”
“I have my suspicions.”
“And you will consider any information I may give you as privileged?”
“How privileged, madam?”
“That you may make use of it where and when you like, provided my name is never mentioned.”
John Strong settled himself firmly in his chair like the man of weight and substance that he was.
“Well, madam,” he said, “I make you this promise. I suppose what you have to tell me concerns my son.”
Miss Saker touched her lips with her handkerchief and coughed suggestively. She assumed an air of reluctance with a cleverness that did her adaptability credit.
“Mr. Strong,” she said, impressively, “I have suffered greatly in my mind since certain unfortunate facts came to my knowledge. Doubt and indecision have made a martyr of me. You will sympathize, Mr. Strong, when I confess to you that I have been torn between friendship and a sense of duty.”