“No. I want you to tell me,” I said. “If danger really besets both of us, is it not your duty to explain the facts to me, and leave me to take steps to protect ourselves?”
“Yes. I would tell you, dear—only—only—”
“Only what?”
“Only—well—only I can’t!” she answered evasively. Then, a second later, she added: “I told you, Claude, long ago that I couldn’t tell you anything.”
“You hold some secret; and yet you conceal it from me!” I remarked in a tone of reproach.
“Because—because I am compelled. I—I am in fear—in deadly fear, Claude!”
“In fear of what?” I asked, for I saw by her demeanour that such was the nerve-strain that she was on the point of tears.
For a second she hesitated. Then she said:
“In fear of that woman—the one with the Leopard’s Eyes.”
I saw it was quite useless to argue further with her while driving, for we were then travelling at a great pace, and had already passed the four-ways at the Cross-in-Hand.