The man in the hooded cloak shuddered.
"Yes," he replied in a changed voice. "You are right; I owe everything to you, and that's why I do all you ask of me. They say there is no genius without lunacy. So I suppose you think me a lunatic—eh?"
"I don't think, Lionel—I know you are," Boyne responded. "You've acted as a silly fool, and you made a serious slip in killing the girl, but I'm trying to save you from the police. They are still hunting over all Europe for you."
"But did I kill her, Wisden? Did I? I don't remember it!"
"Remember it. Why, you've got no memory. You only remember all your science and your wonderful knowledge—a knowledge unequalled. Yes! you killed her, and by an ace I rescued you from arrest. You recollect little Maggie?"
"Ah! yes. I—I know what you mean!" gasped the other. "Little Maggie! But I didn't kill her!"
"You did. Your damnable criminal instincts led you to kill her, and that's why Scotland Yard is searching daily for you!"
"Maggie! I—I killed Maggie!"
"Yes, you did—and you know it, you infernal hypocrite!" cried Boyne. "Now, don't try to argue. I'm in my right senses. You aren't! I haven't time or inclination to have a war of words over it. Besides," he added, glancing at his watch, "Mrs. Felmore will be back at any minute, so you must get upstairs again—and without delay."
"But can't I go home? I—I want to see my garden—the flowers——"