“We must now part,” she said, in a low, earnest voice. “Remember that in this remarkable affair our interests are absolutely identical. Any order that you receive you will obey without seeking to discover the why or wherefore, and above all, silence to the police.”
“I have promised,” I answered.
“And whatever may occur in the future, recollect that I am still your protectress, as I have been to-day. I have forced you to your promise, but for that I ask your forgiveness, because it is essential, if the mystery is ever to be solved.”
“Are you, too, seeking the truth?”
“Yes,” she responded. “But we must not talk here. The condition of our clothes is attracting attention.”
“I shall think always of the mysterious Edna who refuses all information,” I laughed.
“And I, too, shall not easily forget you—and all I owe to you. Farewell.”
Her soft hand grasped mine for an instant, that same cool hand that had soothed my brow. Afterwards she assisted me into the cab.
“Good-bye,” she cried. Then she became lost to me.
I told the driver where to go, and sat back in the vehicle, plunged in my own thoughts. I was like a man in a dream. The mystery was most tantalising. Feeling weak, I stopped at a public-house and had some brandy. Indeed, I felt so unwell that I sat in the bar-parlour fully half an hour before resuming my drive.