“Something is the matter, is it not? Can I be of any assistance?”

The voice, kind and authoritative, reached Lisle Jerningham – the voice, not the words. She heard the words of course, as she heard the clanking of the train, but one meant no more than the other. The voice reached her, Some of the blankness went out of her eyes. She looked at Miss Silver and said,

“You are very kind.”

“You have had a shock.”

This was a statement, not a question.

Lisle said, “Yes;” and then, “How did you know?”

“You came away in a hurry.”

“Yes.” She repeated her question rather piteously. “How did you know?”

“This is a London train. You would not be going to London without any gloves if you had not come away in a hurry. And they are not in your bag. The flat envelope shape would not close upon a pair of gloves without bulging.”

Again it was the kind, decisive voice which reached Lisle and steadied her. There was something about it which made her feel safe. She said like a distressed echo,

“I came away in a hurry.”

“Why?” said Miss Silver.

“They said he was trying to kill me,” said Lisle Jerningham.

Miss Silver betrayed neither surprise nor incredulity. It was not the first time she had received a similar confidence. It was in fact her professional business to deal with such confidences.

“Dear me,” she said – “and who is supposed to be trying to kill you?”

Lisle Jerningham said, “My husband-”

Chapter 2

MISS SILVER looked at her steadily. An unbalanced mind not infrequently displayed itself in such an accusation. She had encountered persecution mania, but she had also encountered murder, and that not merely attempted. In more than one case it was only her own intervention which had prevented the attempt from being successful. She looked steadily at Lisle Jerningham and judged her sane – a normal creature shocked into a temporary abnormality. Shock sometimes acts as an anaesthetic. Control is in abeyance, the tongue is loosened, reserve is gone.