“I deny it!” she protested, a gleam of defiance flashing for an instant in her eyes. “I have never played you false, Gerald. The charge against me is utterly false and unfounded.”
“Then perhaps you will explain this wandering visitor’s business with you.”
“I would tell you all—all that has passed between us, but I dare not. My every action is watched, and if I breathed a single word to you he would know; and then—”
“And what would happen then, pray?” I asked with some surprise, for I now saw that she entertained a deadly fear of her midnight visitor; it was evident that he held some mysterious power over her.
“The result would be disastrous,” she replied in a mechanical tone of voice.
“In what way?”
“Not only would it upset all the plans I have formed, but would in all probability be the cause of my own ruin—perhaps even of my suicide,” she added.
“I don’t understand you, Edith,” I said, turning again to her, in the hope that she would confide in me. “How would it cause your ruin? If you hesitate to tell me the truth, then it is certain that you fear some exposure.”
“You are quite right,” she answered, meeting my gaze unflinchingly; “I do fear exposure.”
“Then you admit your guilt? You admit that what I have alleged is the actual truth?”