“Several things. Frankly, I don’t believe that Dr Jerrold took his own life. I believe that he was a victim of the dastardly spies of the Great Assassin.”
Jack said nothing. The mystery in Wimpole Street was great. Yet, how could they dispute the medical evidence?
“That’s another matter,” he remarked. “How does that concern my safety?”
“It does, very deeply. Your enemies know that you assisted Jerrold, and I am firmly convinced that you are marked down in consequence.”
“My darling!” he cried, drawing her closer to him. “You really make me feel quite creepy all over!” and he laughed.
“Oh, I do wish, dear, you’d take this grave danger seriously!”
“But I don’t. That’s just it!” he answered. “I quite understand, darling, that you may be anxious, but I really feel that your anxiety is quite groundless and hence unnecessary.”
The girl sighed, and then protested, saying—
“Ah! if you would only heed my warning!”
“Haven’t I promised to do so? I’m going to carry my revolver in future.”