He might know that she had followed
them, but she must never admit it. It seemed a feasible argument to
her, in the whirling panic of her thoughts, that her admission would
be fatal--just as the prisoner in the dock pleads "not guilty"
against all the damning evidence of every witness who can be brought
against him.
"I've been in about half an hour," she replied.
"Did you dine with Devenish?"
The same direct form of question, thrown at her with the same
implacable scrutiny of his eyes.
"Yes," she replied.
"Where?"
She mentioned the name of the restaurant in Shaftesbury Avenue.
"Where did you go afterwards?"
It was all prepared on her tongue. She did not hesitate.
"To the Palace," she replied.
"To the Palace?" He repeated it. His eyes burnt into her. Then she
knew that he had seen her in the theatre; but only in the theatre
where she could still swear to him that he was mistaken. Every
instinct she possessed forced her to deny it until the last; beyond
that if breath were left her.
"Did you see it out? Did you see the performance out?" he continued.
"Yes--we waited till the end."
A note of warning despatched to Devenish would ensure his
confirmation of all she had said.
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