CHAPTER XXXV
HIS WIFE
Wrayson drew a little breath and looked back at Sydney Barnes.
"You asked me a question," he said. "I believe I have heard of your brother calling himself by some such name."
Barnes grasped him by the arm.
"Look here," he said, "come and repeat that to the young lady over there. She's with me. It won't do you any harm."
Wrayson rose to his feet, but before he could move he felt Heneage's hand fall upon his arm.
"Where are you going, Wrayson?" he asked.
Barnes looked up at him anxiously. His pale face seemed twisted into a scowl.
"Don't you interfere!" he exclaimed. "You've done me enough harm, you have. You let Mr. Wrayson pass. He's coming with me."
Heneage took no more notice of him than he would of a yapping terrier. He looked over his head into Wrayson's eyes.
"Wrayson," he said, "don't have anything more to do with this business. Take my advice. I know more than you do about it. If you go on, I swear to you that there is nothing but misery at the end."
"I know more than you think I do," Wrayson answered quietly. "I know more indeed than you have
