"I 'm not positive that I do," was the woman's guarded answer.
"That's a lie!" thundered Blake. "You know as well as I do!"
"What have you been doing?" asked the woman, almost indulgently.
"I 've been trailing Binhart, and you know it! And what 's more, you know where Binhart is, now, at this moment!"
"What was it you wanted me for?" reiterated the white-faced woman, without looking at him.
Her evasions did more than anger Blake; they maddened him. For years now he had been compelled to face her obliquities, to puzzle over the enigma of her ultimate character, and he was tired of it all. He made no effort to hold his feelings in check. Even into his voice crept that grossness which before had seemed something of the body alone.
"I want to know where Binhart is!" he cried, leaning forward so that his head projected pugnaciously from his shoulders like the head of a fighting-cock.
