"But, Teddy—ah! You don't know how injudicious it was for you to visit them. Why, you might have——"
"Might have what?" I asked, endeavouring to betray no surprise at her words.
"Well, I mean you should not have ventured into the enemy's camp like that. It was dangerous," she declared.
"Why?"
"They are quite unscrupulous," she replied briefly.
"They are your enemies, I know. But I cannot see why they should be mine," I remarked.
"My enemies—yes!" my love cried bitterly. "It will not be long before that woman makes a charge against me, Teddy—one which I shall not be able to refute."
"But I will assist you against them. I love you, Phrida, and it is my duty to defend you," I declared.
"Ah! You were always so good and generous," she remarked wistfully. "But in this case I cannot, alas, see how you can render me any aid! The police will make inquiries, and—and then the end," she added in a voice scarce above a whisper.
"No, no!" I urged. "Don't speak in that hopeless strain, darling. I know your position is a terrible one. We need not refer to details; as they are painful to both of us. But I am straining every nerve—working night and day to clear up the mystery and lift from you this cloud of suspicion. I have already commenced by learning one or two facts—facts of which the police remain in ignorance. Although you refused to tell me—why, I cannot discern—the name of the unfortunate girl who lost her life, I have succeeded in gaining knowledge of it. Was not the girl named Marie Bracq?"