"
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
"Of myself, of you, of everything," she murmured pathetically.
Virginia was a little worn out. Day after day of disappointment had
tried her sorely. He felt himself softening, but he showed no signs of
it in his face.
"Is there anywhere here where we can talk?" he asked. "You have rooms in
the building, have you not? Are you alone?"
He could have bitten his tongue out for that question, but its
significance never occurred to her.
"Yes!" she answered. "Since you are here, perhaps you had better come
in."
They had met on the landing of the fifth floor of Coniston Mansions. She
led him down the corridor, and, opening a door, ushered him into a tiny
sitting-room.
"How did you find me out?" she asked.
"I saw you dining at Luigi's yesterday and to-day," he answered sternly.
"You were with the same man both times. I followed you yesterday. You
both came back here. To-day you came back alone. Is this man
your brother?"
"No!" she answered.
"Your cousin? Is he any relation to you?"
"No!" she repeated.
"Who is he, then?"
"A friend," she answered, "or an enemy perhaps. What does it matter to
you?"
He looked at her steadfastly.
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