this—with that man and those awful women. I must help you."
"And the risk?"
"I'll chance the risk," I answered, kissing her, as I thought to myself that it was not the first I had run by many.
"You must go now, Archie," said my companion. "They'll miss me; I am always spied upon, but—yes, I'll help you. Oh, how can I thank you?—but you must not do it. Why take this awful risk?"
"None at all, Rita," I replied as we kissed good-night. "None—if you can keep the secret."
"I would die sooner than say one word which would implicate you; I swear it. Oh, only"
I stopped her; she was inclined to get hysterical. She was one of those highly-strung, nervous women with an infinity of pluck under trying circumstances, but who, curiously enough, break down very easily when their affections or sympathies are aroused. I knew she had grown very fond of me, so I felt compelled to put on the brake, as it were.
"Pull yourself together, dear," I spoke quietly, and very quickly soothed her excited nerves.
