"Yes," I replied, in a low, earnest voice. "You were also in the park last night." She was silent. "I did not see you," she faltered. Then, as though recovering her self-possession, she added, with some hauteur, "And even if I chose to walk here after every one had gone to rest, I really don't think that you have any right to question my actions." "Forgive me," I said quickly. "I do not question you in the least; I have no right to do so. You are certainly free to do as you please, save where you neglect your own interests or place yourself in peril--as you did last night." "In peril of what?" she demanded defiantly. "In peril of falling a victim to the vengeance of an enemy." "I don't understand you." "Then I will speak more frankly, Miss Wynd, in the hope that you will be equally frank with me," I said, my eyes fixed upon her. "You were last night, or, rather, at an early hour this morning, with a person whom you have met on a previous occasion." "I admit that. It is, indeed, useless to deny it," she answered. "And yet, on the last occasion that you met, you nearly lost your life! Was it wise?" "Nearly lost my life?" she echoed. "I do not follow you." "The woman in black who called at Gloucester Square on that evening not so many days ago. You surely remember her? Was it not after her departure that her unaccountable, evil influence remained?" "Certainly. But what of her?" "You were with her last night." "With her?" she gasped, surprised. "I certainly was not." "Do you deny having seen her?" I demanded. "Most assuredly," she responded promptly. "You certainly did not see us together." "And your companion was not a woman?" "No; it was a man." "Who?" "I have already told you that I object to any one interfering in my private affairs." "A lover?" I said, with some asperity perhaps. "You are entirely at liberty to think what you please. I only deny that I have set eyes upon my mysterious visitor since that evening in Gloucester Square." "Well, she was in the house last night," I answered decisively. "She was in your room." "In my room?" gasped my well-beloved, in alarm. "Impossible?" "I watched her enter there," I replied; and then continuing, gave her an exact account of all that transpired--how she had first entered my room, and how the strange evil of her presence had so strangely affected me afterwards. "It's absolutely astounding," she declared. "I was utterly ignorant of it all. Are you absolutely certain that it was the same woman?" "The description given of her by yourself and your cousin's servant is exact. She came here with some distinctly sinister purpose, that is quite evident." "But she must have entered by the servants' quarters if she passed through the hall as you have described. She seemed to have been in search of us both."