Part 28 (2/2)
”Do you think the truth will ever come out?” she inquired, her eyes still downcast.
”It may,” he answered, watching her narrowly. ”The unexpected often happens.”
”Of course,” she agreed, with a faint smile. ”But the police have obtained no further clue, have they?” she asked in eagerness.
”Not that I'm aware of,” he answered briefly, and a silence fell between them. ”Liane,” he said at last, turning towards her with a calm, serious look, ”I somehow cannot help doubting that you are acting altogether straightforward towards me.”
”Straightforward?” she echoed, glancing at him with a look half of suspicion, half of surprise. ”I don't understand you.”
”I mean that you refuse to tell me the reason you are bound to marry this man you hate,” he blurted forth. ”You are concealing the truth.”
”Only because I am forced to do so,” she answered mechanically. ”Ah, you do not know all, George, or you would not upbraid me,” she added brokenly.
”Why not tell me? Then I might a.s.sist you.”
”No, alas! you cannot a.s.sist me,” she answered, in a forlorn, hopeless voice, with head bent and her gaze fixed blankly upon the ground. ”If you wish to be merciful towards me, leave here. Return to London and forget everything. While you remain, my terrible secret oppresses me with greater weight, because I know that I have lost for ever all love and hope--that the judgment of Heaven has fallen upon me.”
”Why, dearest?” he cried. ”How is it you speak so strangely?” Then in an instant remembering her curious words when they had met at Monte Carlo, he added, ”Anyone would believe that you had committed some fearful crime.”
She started, staring at him with lips compressed, but uttering no response. Her face was that of one upon whose conscience was some guilty secret.
”Come,” he said presently, in a kind, persuasive tone. ”Tell me why poor Nelly's death is a barrier to our happiness.”
”No,” she answered, ”I cannot. Have I not already told you that my secret is inviolable?”
”You refuse?”
She nodded, her breast heaving and falling.
”Every detail of that terrible affair is still as vivid in my recollection as if it occurred but yesterday,” he said. ”Until quite recently I have always believed that the a.s.sa.s.sin stole the brooch she was wearing; but I am now confident that it was stolen between the time I discovered the body and returned with a.s.sistance from the village.”
She held her breath, but only for a single instant.
”What causes you to think this?” she inquired. ”Because I distinctly remember that the brooch was still at her throat when I found her lying in the road. Yet when I returned it was missing. The a.s.sa.s.sin was not the thief.”
”That has been my theory all along,” she said.
He noticed the effect his words produced upon her, and was puzzled.
”You have never explained to me, Liane, the reason you did not keep your appointment with me on that evening,” he said gravely. ”If you had been at the spot we had arranged, Nelly's life would most probably have been saved.”
”I was prevented from meeting you,” she answered vaguely, after a second's hesitation.
”You have already told me that. What prevented you?”
”A curious combination of circ.u.mstances.”
”What were they?”
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