“Yes?”
“Maud fainted. … Please don’t tell her I told you, Mr. Baxter; she wouldn’t like you to know that. And then other things happen sometimes which aren’t nice. Do you think me a great coward? I—I think I’ve got a fit of nerves tonight.”
Laurie could see that she was trembling.
“I think you’re very kind,” he said, “to take the trouble to tell me all this. But indeed I was quite ready to be startled. I quite understand what you mean—but—”
“ Mr. Baxter, you can’t understand unless you’ve experienced it. And, you know, the other day here you knew nothing at all: you were not conscious. Now tonight you’re to keep awake; Mr. Vincent’s going to arrange to do what he can about that. And—and I don’t quite like it.”
“Why, what on earth can happen?” asked Laurie, bewildered.
“ Mr. Baxter, I suppose you realize that it’s you that they—whoever they are—are interested in? There’s no kind of doubt that you’ll be the center tonight. And I did just want you to understand fully that there are risks. I shouldn’t like to think—”
Laurie stood up.
“I understand perfectly,” he said. “Certainly, I always knew there were risks. I hold myself responsible, and no one else. Is that quite clear?”
The wire of the front-door bell suddenly twitched in the hall, and a peal came up the stairs.
“He’s come,” said the other.
“Come upstairs, Mr. Baxter. Please don’t say a word of what I’ve said.”