“Yes. It is true!” she answered in a low, hard voice. “I do know something—something of a certain secret that can never pass my lips!”
CHAPTER THE TENTH
MONSIEUR SUZOR AGAIN
Mrs. Cullerton’s words held me breathless.
At first I believed that I might wring the truth from her lips, but I quickly saw that she intended to preserve her secret at all costs. Whether she actually believed what I had told her concerning her own peril was doubtful. In any case, she seemed in some strange manner held powerless and fascinated by the rich man who had saved her speculating husband from ruin.
I remained there for still another quarter of an hour until her maid announced a visitor, when I was compelled to rise and take my leave.
For a few days longer I remained in Florence; then I left for London. On entering the Calais express at the Gare du Nord in Paris on my way home, I was agreeably surprised to find among my fellow travellers to England the affable French banker whom I had met on that memorable journey from York to London. He recognized me at once, and I inquired why he was not, as usual, crossing by air to Croydon.
“Ah!” he laughed. “The last time I crossed three weeks ago we went into a thick fog over the Channel, and it was not very comfortable. So I prefer the rail just now.”