Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. If he had nothing to tell her, she had nothing to ask. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. The image did not move. \"I'm sorry, Larry. “No, I mean that we should assemble ourselves in case your parents arrive home.
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