“Come,” he exclaimed boldly. “Tell me, Kemball, man to man, all that woman has said.”
I saw that his manner had changed, his small eyes were flashing with fire, while upon his pale cheeks showed two scarlet patches.
Through my brain surged recollections of the woman’s allegations, but, seeing him in such anger, I did not desire to irritate him further, therefore I declared that whatever the lady had said was in no way derogatory to him.
“You are not telling me the truth, Kemball,” he declared, looking straight into my eyes. “I know her too well. She has lied to you about me.”
“Probably,” was my reply. “I happen by a curious chance to know the character of the lady, and it is hardly such as would inspire me with confidence.”
“You know her then!” he exclaimed, staring at me hard.
“I know that at one time she passed as Lady Lettice Lancaster, and was sentenced to penal servitude as an adventuress.”
“Who told you that? How do you know that?” he asked quickly.
“It is surely common knowledge,” was my reply. “Therefore please dismiss from your mind that anything she might say to your detriment would impair our friendship.”
“Ah yes!” he cried suddenly, taking my hand and wringing it warmly. “I know, Kemball, that you, being my friend, will refuse to be influenced in any way by evil report. That woman is, as you rightly say, an unscrupulous adventuress. I knew her once—before her conviction—but I have since lost sight of her. Yet, I know she is my enemy, and—well, if it were to her interest she would have no compunction in giving me away to Scotland Yard.”