Miss Trevor folded her hands across her lap. She wore that air which I
am led to believe is common to all women who have something of importance
to disclose; or at least what they consider is of importance. There was
an element of pity, too, in her expression. For she had given me my
chance, and my wits had been found wanting.

Do not let it be surmised that I attach any great value to such banter as
she had been indulging in. At the same time, however, I had an uneasy
feeling that I had missed something which might have been to my
advantage. It was in vain that I whipped my dull senses; but one
conclusion was indicated by all this inference, and I don't care even to
mention that: it was preposterous.

Then Miss Trevor shifted to a very serious mood. She honestly did her
best to persuade me to relinquish our enterprise, to go to Mr. Cooke and
confess the whole thing.

"I wish we had washed our hands of this Celebrity from the first," she
said, with a sigh. "How dreadful if you lose your position on account of
this foolishness!"

"But I shan't," I answered reassuringly; "we are getting near the border
now, and no sign of trouble. And besides," I added, "I think Miss Thorn
tried to frighten me. And she very nearly succeeded. It was prettily
done."

"Of course she tried to frighten you. I wish she had succeeded."

"But her object was transparent."