up appearances. And when we worked together we always felt safe. But we were safe only because we kept together."
"And you're not keeping together?" Kestner inquired.
"We can't," was her almost tragic answer,
"Are you willing to tell me why?"
"I'm compelled to tell you why."
"What is it?" he asked.
When she spoke, after a pause, she unconsciously lowered her voice. "It's Morello!"
Kestner could see that she had not easily made that confession.
"But why should you be afraid of one of your own circle?"
"I think you know why I am afraid of him," she answered. Kestner could also see that it was now costing her an effort to speak calmly. "He was always an animal. But now he is half mad, and worse than an animal!"
"Has he anything to do with your being here?" Kestner demanded.
"He has everything to do with my being here. I came here to escape him. I chose this place because I knew he would come to a place like this last. He knows how I hate such things!"
Kestner was watching her narrowly. He decided that she was one of two things: either the most accomplished of actresses, or a woman who was indeed nearing, in some way, the end of her rope. But the years had indurated his sympathies, and he warned himself to go slowly.
