Penelope dropped the discussion abruptly. It was no use trying to present the stern logic of facts to this frightened and harebrained woman. She was sickened, but she had some sympathy with the panic in which Mrs. Gertstein was caught. It might be as she said that there was a real chance of escape for her, although the girl viewing the position with a detached and more clear sighted appreciation of the facts, thought it a tenuous one.
She felt that her own plight had become more delicate in some ways. Her sense of loyalty to Mrs. Gertstein had been shaken, but it was not absolutely shattered. It was one thing to advise her to give herself up; it was quite another actively to betray her either voluntarily or under pressure. Penelope knew that, if she did at any time manage to escape, that questions would be put to her by the police—questions designed so that the answers should lead them not only to Larry Hughes but to Mrs. Gertstein. She had suffered much already in trying to protect the other woman, but she could not bring herself to contemplate aiding to bring her to justice. Yet the only alternative was to stay by her. That, if they were to submit to Larry Hughes’ will, was still more unthinkable.
“Well, Adèle,” she said, quietly, “we will talk about it later on. You are not yourself now. I wonder if Mrs. Lengholm has got a room for you? You will need a rest.”
She pressed a bell, and Sophie, whose face was a little less serene than usual, stalked into the room. Penelope put a question.
“If you don’t mind,” said Sophie, “we’ll have to put an extra bed in your room, Miss Noelson. You see our accommodation is rather limited.”
“Then we shall be together. That will be fine,” said Mrs. Gertstein and allowed Sophie to lead her away.
Penelope picked up a book, although she was in little mood for reading. But she was apparently engrossed in its pages when Larry Hughes put his head in ten minutes later. He nodded without saying a word and stole quietly away.
An idea had taken root in his mind, and he was not the man to waste time in putting any project into execution. Mrs. Gertstein had barely had time to begin to repair the ravages of her toilet with the help of Sophie Lengholm ere he sent for her. She came into the room he called his study, a little defiantly, a little frightened. He motioned her to a chair.
“We’re too old friends to quarrel, Adèle,” he began in his silken modulated voice. “I want to apologise for the way in which I spoke to you just now. It was unforgivable.”
She stretched out a small shoe and contemplated it with a smile. One could almost have said that she was purring. “That’s all right, Larry. I was an ungrateful little fool. I was a little strung up.”
She looked sideways at him, and he stroked his lip with his hand to hide a smile. Even at this juncture in her affairs she could not resist the opportunity to attempt to flirt.
“That’s all right, then. So long as we’re friends again.” He leaned back in his chair. “The fact is, Adèle, that I’ve come to the point at which I want the advice and help of a woman of the world.”
“So.” She smiled languorously at him. “That’s a compliment. And yet you said a little while ago that you always admired my beauty rather than my brains.”
There was no sting in the reproof. He laughed lightly. “Did I say that? The brandy must have made me peevish. You don’t realise how highly I regard you in a thousand ways.”
“Did you call me down to make love to me?” she countered. “I thought you had got over that long ago.” Her face suddenly hardened. “At least you turned our affair to your financial advantage, didn’t you?”
A little puzzled frown appeared on his forehead. Larry Hughes would have made a great actor. “Financial advantage? I don’t get you, my dear girl.”
She stiffened a fraction. “According to that detective person, you were behind the man who was blackmailing me.”
“And you believed that? Good Lord!” He contrived to inflect into his voice just the right mixture of amusement and astonishment at her credulity. “If I were that kind of dirty skunk, why should I try to shelter behind someone else? Did I ever strike you, Adèle, as a man who would be afraid of coming out into the open in a case like that?”
“Do you mean that he invented that story?”
“Invented it. That’s one of the oldest tricks of the police detective. He wanted to embitter you against me. I give you my word of honour, Adèle. You’ll believe me, won’t you?”
“Do you know it never struck me in that way,” she said reflectively. She thrust out a hand towards him which he affected not to see. “Of course I believe you, Larry.”
“I am glad of that.” He gave a convincing sigh of relief. “Now, Adèle, I want you to help me. It’s about Penelope Noelson.”
“You’ve not fallen in love with her, have you?” she asked with a little laugh. “By the way, what is she doing here?”
He looked at her thoughtfully before replying. “Couldn’t you guess that?” he said steadily. “She is here because I intend to marry her.”
Adèle Gertstein drew herself bolt upright. “Marry her,” she repeated harshly. “You say she is going to marry you?”
“The same thing. I am going
