“Come here,” she commanded.
I obeyed her.
“See! below. There is a man selling newspapers. Listen to what he says?”
I leant out of the window, and as I did so a hoarse cry broke upon my ear. It caused me to start, for the words the man shouted were, “Extra special! Attempt to murder the Czar! Exciting Scenes! Extra special!”
“What has that to do with it?” I asked, puzzled, as she closed the window and drew the curtains again.
“Everything,” she replied, sighing. “Sit down, and I will tell you the story.”
I flung myself into an easy-chair, and she came and stood beside me. Her hand smoothed my forehead with a tender caress, yet somehow I could not trust her; the ironic and brutal strokes of Fate had paralysed me, and I felt myself wholly stupefied.
“Sometimes, Frank, an unforeseen incident, a chance, an exterior influence, may bring on a disastrous crisis. It has unfortunately been so in my case,” she said, in a deep, earnest voice.
“Begin at the beginning. Let me know what is this strange mystery which has shadowed your life,” I urged, taking her hand in mine.
“Hush! we must not be overheard,” she replied, glancing apprehensively at the door. “I—I fully recognise how painful all these complications must have been to you, dear, but I assure you it is not my fault that I have not divulged. I had taken an oath—”