She took it from him with a hand that no longer trembled. “Yes. I believe you now. I will drink it. Tell me what I am to do, how I am to act when it begins to take effect!”
“Do nothing; just go to the sofa and lie down. In a few minutes you will be in a stupor, unconscious of everything and everybody. Your landlady may come up; she can act as she pleases; send for a doctor or not. Probably nobody will come near you till Alvedero arrives. When he sees you there he can act as he pleases too. Anyway, he cannot stay long, because he will be due at the brotherhood, to whom he will bring the report of your sudden indisposition.”
“And if the doctor comes, will he not guess?”
“Dios!” cried Moreno, relapsing for a moment into Spanish. “You will be all right again long before the doctor has picked out your complaint from a dozen others that present similar symptoms.” She pulled the cork from the phial, and sniffed the contents. “There is no odour about it,” she said.
“Not the slightest,” said Moreno quietly. “I took very good care of that. I think if the doctor does come, he will be a bit puzzled.”
She drank it down at a draught, then handed the bottle back to her visitor.
“I am an adventuress, and you are—well—a sort of adventurer,” she said, with a half smile. “Well, you see, I have given you a proof of my faith in you.”
Moreno put the phial into his pocket, and held out his hand.
“Good-bye, for the present.”
“Shall I see you to-morrow?” asked Violet, as she walked with him to the door. “You say after about twelve hours I shall be myself again.”