"By Jove, neither you nor I dreamed when we got out of
the last taxi that we should soon be in another, going back to the place
we started from!"
"The Savoy!" exclaimed Annesley. "Oh, but we mustn't go there, of all
places! Those men----"
"I assure you it's safer now than anywhere in London!" the man cut her
short. "I can't explain why--that is, I _could_ explain if I cared to rig
up a story. But there's something about you makes me feel as if I'd like
to tell you the truth whenever I can: and the truth is, that for reasons
you may understand some day--though I hope to Heaven you'll never have
to!--my association with those men is one of the things I long to turn
the key upon. I know that that sounds like Bluebeard to Fatima, but it
isn't as bad as _that_. To me, it doesn't seem bad at all. And I swear
that whatever mystery--if you call it 'mystery'--there is about me, it
sha'n't hurt you. Will you believe this--and trust me for the rest?"
"I've told you I would!" the girl reminded him.
"I know. But things were different then--not so serious. They hadn't gone
so far. I didn't suppose that Fate would give you to me so soon.
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