Strange suspicions flowed through his brain as he watched her.

What terrible experience had befallen her?
What did she know of the mysterious events that had happened in that silent house?
He endeavoured to follow the direction of her gaze, but it seemed to be fixed on the row of bells behind the kitchen door.
Then, like a half-awakened sleeper released from the horror of a nightmare, she sank back in her previous listless attitude, and fell to muttering again.
As Barrant watched her, Thalassa watched them both with an anxiety which would have aroused Barrant's suspicions if he had seen it.

But Thalassa's face was again closely guarded when he did look up.
"You'll get neither rhyme nor reason out of her," said Thalassa, as their glances met.
"I'll try once more," murmured Barrant, almost to himself.

He turned to her again, but this time he did not lay his hand on her arm.

"Mrs.
Thalassa"-- he spoke more gently--"will you try and understand me ?" "Red on black ...