The curious thought had crossed his mind that she had been sent there by Claudia.
“I chanced to be present here entirely by accident,” she answered. “But by good fortune I have been able to rescue you from death.”
He bowed to her with stiff politeness, for he suspected her of eavesdropping. He felt that he disliked her, and in no half-hearted fashion. Besides, he recollected the prophetic warning of the colonel. It was more than strange that he should discover her there, in that room where his valuable papers were lodged. He scented mystery in her action, and fiercely resented this unwarrantable intrusion upon his privacy.
“My own behaviour is my own affair, Miss Mortimer,” he said in a determined voice.
“Yes, all but suicide,” she assented. “That is an affair which concerns your friends.”
“Of whom you are scarcely one,” he observed meaningly.
“No,” she replied, stretching forth her hand until it rested upon his arm. “You entirely misunderstand me, Mr Chisholm. As in this affair you have already involuntarily confided in me, I beg of you to rely upon my discretion and secrecy, and to allow me to become your friend.”