She said, not with entire candor perhaps: "I am to understand, then, that you wish to have nothing more to do with me or my affairs." "Nothing of the kind," he said, "I shall go through with it to the end." "Why are you quarreling with me then?"--this with a plaintive note. "I'm quarreling with you because yesterday in your letters you called me your friend; you led me to believe that I was something more to you than a useful person, yet you withheld this essential fact." "But you knew it all the time." "You didn't tell me. How did I know but what the man was lying?" "He's incapable of lying!" "Oh, now you're simply trying to change the issue." He had her there. She fell silent. Presently he went on with added bitterness. "What I can't understand is, when you said you were an American, when you said you loved America, how you could have chosen him." "That's why," she said. "He's an American." "What!" "Half an American anyway. His father was an American like mine. His name is Henry Saunders." "I fancy he must take after his mother," said Greg dryly. Once more they rode for several blocks in a miserable silence, each looking out of his own window. "I'm sorry I can't drop this painful subject," Greg said at last, "but I've got to know where Mr. Saunders comes in on our case." "What do you mean? He doesn't come in at all." "Is he on de Socotra's side?" "He has nothing to do with politics." "I see. What does he do?" "Are you trying to insult him?" "Not at all. Merely asking for a little information." "He's very wealthy. He looks after his property and--er--he travels." "I see. What would your uncle have said about him?" "I don't know, I'm sure." "But you said your uncle's ideas had very strongly affected you." "That's true. But I wouldn't let him nor anybody else choose a man for me to marry." "Of course not. But as the wife of Mr. Saunders do you expect to lead the kind of life your uncle recommended?" "I don't admit your right to ask me any such question." "Easy enough to say that when the question is hard to answer," said Greg bitterly. "I wish I were home!" she said in a small voice. But he would not spare her. "Why haven't you told Mr. Saunders everything that has happened?" "Because--Oh, a thousand reasons! How many more questions do you expect me to answer?" "Is it because you think he might not be willing to help you run down the murderers of Antonio Bareda?" "You have no right to suggest such a thing!" "But you said he was rich. Naturally he belongs to the rich man's party." "He's honest and straightforward." "Then why haven't you told him?" "I wished to spare him." "I'm sorry, but he must be told." Her eyebrows went up. "Must? I don't like your tone. Why must he?" "I should think you'd see yourself. You and I can't be engaged on these secret matters and go around together without his being told. I must insist on his being told for my own sake."