old manner. ‘Come tomorrow—that is, if you care to come.’
“‘Care to come!’ I cried, but she held me away from her.
“‘Yes,’ she repeated steadily, ‘Care to come—perhaps you won’t, and I shan’t blame you. Go to Mr. Godfrey, John, and ask him—tell him that I sent you—then, afterwards, if you care to come, I shall be glad—glad.’
“I thought her self-control was going to fail her, but it was only for an instant.
“‘However, John’ she added more calmly, ‘If you do come, it must be with the understanding that I am to be asked no questions, be worried for no explanations. You must be content with what Mr. Godfrey can tell you, for I can tell you nothing more—at least, not now. You must trust me wholly. Good-night’ and she was gone.
“Then,” concluded Drysdale grimly, “I took a cab straight here, and here I am. Now, in God’s name, what does it mean? What has she done?”
