Eaton felt the warm blood flooding his face and his heart throb with gratitude toward her.
"You don't believe it because you don't understand yet, dear," Avery declared. "We are going to make you believe it by proving to you it is true."
Avery pulled forward one of the leather chairs for her to seat herself and set another for himself facing Eaton. Eaton, gazing across steadily at Avery, was chilled and terrified as he now fully realized for the first time the element which Avery's presence added. What the relations were between Harriet Santoine and Avery he did not know, but clearly they were very close; and it was equally clear that Avery had noticed and disliked the growing friendship between her and Eaton. Eaton sensed now with a certainty that left no doubt in his own mind that as he himself had realized only a moment before that his strongest feeling was the desire to clear himself before Harriet Santoine, so Avery now was realizing that—since some one on the train had certainly made the attack on Santoine—he hoped he could prove before her that that person was Eaton.
"Why did you ring the bell in Mr. Santoine's berth?" Avery directed the attack upon him suddenly.
"To call help," Eaton answered.
Question and answer, Eaton realized, had made some effect upon Harriet Santoine, as he did not doubt Avery intended they should; yet he could not look toward her to learn exactly what this effect was but kept his eyes on Avery.
"You had known, then, that he needed help?"
"I knew it—saw it then, of course."
"When?"
"When I found him."