“Nothing,” she answered, in a voice that might well have been that of a spectre. “Leave me,” she added, as if with the last entreaty of despair.
“You are in trouble, Alice!” he persisted. “Why are you so far from home? Where's Arthur?”
“What right have you to question me?” she returned, almost fiercely.
“None but that I am your brother's friend.”
“Friend!” she echoed, in a faint far-away voice.
“You forget, Alice, that I did all I could to be your friend, and you would not let me!”
She neither spoke nor moved. Her stillness seemed to say, “Neither will I now.”
“Where are you going?” he asked, after a hopeless pause.
“Nowhere.”
“Why did you leave London?”