Still she made no answer. A minute passed--another. His hand lifted and
swept across his forehead in an agitated way. Still silence. She neither
moved nor spoke. His hand dropped slowly to his side. There was a queer,
twisted smile upon his lips.
"You win!" he said hoarsely.
"Thank you, Jimmie," she said simply.
"And your name, who you are"--he was speaking, but he did not seem to
recognise his own voice--"the hundred other things I've sworn I'd make
you explain when I found you, are all taboo as well, I suppose!"
"Yes," she said.
He laughed bitterly.
"Don't you know," he cried out, "that between the police and the
underworld, our house of cards is likely to collapse at any minute--that
they are hunting the Gray Seal day and night! Is it to be always like
this--that I am never to know--until it is too late!"
She came toward him out of the darkness impulsively.
"They will never get you, Jimmie," she said, in a suppressed voice. "And
some day, I promise you now, you shall have your reward for to-night.
You shall know--everything."
"When?" The word came from him with fierce eagerness.
"I do not know," she answered gently. "Soon, perhaps--perhaps sooner
than either of us imagine."
"And by that you mean--what?" he asked, and his hand reached out for her
again through the blackness.
This time she did not draw away.
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