"They?" inquired Kennedy, observing her narrowly. "Who?"
"I can't tell. I don't know. Why did I come? Why did I come?"
She was reaching again for the snuff-box, but Kennedy restrained
her.
"Miss Keith," he remarked, "you are concealing something from me.
There is some one," he paused a moment, "whom you are shielding."
"No, no," she cried. "He was taken. Brodie had nothing to do with
it, nothing. That is what you mean. I know. This stuff increases
my sensitiveness. Yet I hate Coke Brodie--oh--let me go. I am all
unstrung. Let me see a doctor. To-night, when I am better, I will
tell all."
Loraine Keith had torn herself from him, had instantly taken a
pinch of the fatal crystals, with that same ominous change from
fear to self-confidence. What had been her purpose in coming at
all? It had seemed at first to implicate Brodie, but she had been
quick to shield him when she saw that danger. I wondered what the
fascination might be which the wretch exercised over her.
"To-night--I will see you to-night," she cried, and a moment later
she was gone, as unexpectedly as she had come.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363