"Isn't it? We'll see. You know what I carry here;" and he slid his fingers into the pocket from which I had before seen him take the opium pills. "I shall take it if you don't tell me."
"You must do as you please. But you have none with you."
"How do you know?"
"You told Madame d'Artelle so, in the carriage."
He laughed and took out a little phial half full of them, and held it up. "She is stupid. Do you think I should regard it as more than half a victory if I didn't carry this with me? Will you drive me back to it now?"
He took out one of the pills, held it up, and gazed at it with eyes almost haggard with greedy longing.
"This is childish," I said.
"No, it's a question of your will or mine. Will you tell me or shall I take this? One or the other. You can undo your own work. I can scarcely bear the sight of it."
"I accept the challenge," I answered after a second's pause. "It is your will or mine. Rather than see you take that I will tell you——"
"I knew you would," he broke in triumphantly.