“Then you know this woman—or at least you guess her identity,” I said in a low voice.
She gazed at me with parted lips.
“I have already told you that I do not know her,” was her firm response.
“Then what do you fear?” I demanded.
Again she was silent. Whatever potential complicity had lurked in her heart, my words brought her only immeasurable dismay.
“I dread such an action for your own sake,” she faltered.
“Then I will remain till your cousin comes, and ask her what it is.”
“Ask her?”