"All Munich is open to you," I answered, with a show of indifference.
"Why do you want my Duke Marx lured out of the way next Wednesday?"
She dealt the thrust so sharply and watched me so keenly that I marvelled at my own self-control in hiding all sign of my consternation.
"Who is your Duke Marx, and what on earth do you mean?" I asked, my wits busy with the thoughts which the question started.
If she was the decoy on whom Praga relied, she was in love with him, and her motive in coming to me was just sheer revenge and woman's rage. She held the very kernel of my scheme in her hands, and could blight it in a moment, revealing everything to the other side. Perhaps she had done so already. What a fool Praga had been to trust such a woman! And yet how was I to gauge the power and extent of her love for him, and say to what it might not drive her? All this rushed through my head to the accompaniment of the soft, musical, mocking laugh with which she greeted my question.
"I thought you did not lie by implication," she said.
"I thought so, too," I answered, speaking at random, and waiting for a cue from her.
"You are a clever man, Prince—if Prince you really are, and not merely a daring adventurer—but you have left out of your calculations what a woman's revenge may do."
"My dear Clara, we all expect the unexpected in a way, and never prepare for it." I rose from my chair as if to close the interview. "Whatever you wish to do, please go at once and do it."
"I will," she replied, rising also and going to the door.