Toutou was in a different mood from any I knew, or, rather, I should say, from the one I knew. His sinisterly beautiful face revealed the latent ferocity that was the salient feature of his character, but with it there was something else, something difficult to define. The tigerish glare in his eyes was replaced by a softer light; the pupils were expanded. His mouth was slack. His movements were uncertain. He hovered over Betty, looking almost fearfully at Hélène.
She stood just inside the door that communicated with the large outer chamber. She was dressed in a sport suit and high boots. Her hat was off, and her face showed pinched and wan. There were shadows under her eyes.
"Say I am jealous," she answered steadily. "I have a right to be. You have never had a woman who did more for you than I. Do you think Miss Innocence here would do what I have done?"
"That is why I want her," returned Toutou, his voice singularly hoarse. "I am tired of you. I am tired of all of you. I hunger for innocence. I wish to forget crime and evil. When we finish this job I am going to take this petite and go away where Toutou will be unknown."
"Toutou LaFitte a reformed character!" Hélène laughed sarcastically. "You don't know what you are talking about. You have nothing in common with innocence."
"Who knows?"
"I know, mon ami. The girl would kill herself first. Sooner than see you do this, I will kill you."
Toutou frowned at her.
"Stand back!" he warned. "If you touch her—"
Hélène stepped forward boldly, one hand inside her jacket.