“Look here, Boyd,” I continued, “I love Eva Glaslyn, and to you I make no secret of it whatsoever. But at all hazards I mean to ascertain the truth.”
“Even at the risk of convicting her?” he inquired, looking across at me quickly.
“Convicting her!” I echoed. “Then you really entertain the same suspicion as myself?”
“We may have suspicions without forming any theories,” he responded calmly. Then he added, in a tone of regret, “It’s certainly a thousand pities that you love her.”
“Why?”
“Upon your own showing she appears to have very little regard for you.”
“How?”
“Well,” he answered slowly, “there’s no doubt that the other day an attempt was made upon your life.”
“And you suspect her?”
“We can suspect no one else,” he answered.