She shook her head.
"That little pianist, the gunman, how did he escape?"
"Stanley, you mean Stanley. Did he get away?" she asked him eagerly.
He nodded.
Her eyes narrowed; she bit her lip.
"That's all you want to tell me?" he said.
The look of fright reappeared in her green eyes. "What do you mean,
Jaro?"
He said nothing.
"You know as much as I do," she assured him. "You believe me now, don't
you, Jaro." Her voice was eager.
"No," he replied calmly.
"What are you going to do?" she whispered.
"Who are the others in this with you?"
"I can't tell you." She bit her lip, looked more frightened than ever.
"Who are the others?" he repeated mildly.
The red-headed singer leaped to her feet. Her figure was full,
strikingly beautiful. She was well aware of her appeal. "Jaro," she
cried, "I can't tell you. It would be as much as my life is worth. Not
until I know what side you're on."
* * * * *
Jaro regarded her calmly. At length he said, "You'll excuse us if we
lock you in the dressing room?"
"But Jaro," she said; "aren't you going to take me with you?"
He shook his head.
"You're going to leave me here?" she repeated. She couldn't keep the
relief out of her voice.