"What did I say?" I asked, frowning.
"That you meant to hold me to the stupid engagement. But you can't do that, however much you wish. It's true that under the silly will the engagement can't be broken off till I'm five and twenty, unless you do it, but don't forget that I get half the money even if I don't marry you."
"Is that the will? It does seem silly, as you say."
"Oh, I know you believe you have the whiphand."
"Indeed, I don't know anything about it." It was really delicious to be able to tell the simple truth.
She frowned impatiently. "It's what you're thinking then," she declared rather snappily. I shook my head. What I really was considering was whether, since Lassen was at the bottom of the North Sea, I should make a friend of her by doing what she wished. "Well, anyhow, I want you to make haste and think about it all and let me know the result as soon as possible. I hate suspense, and things can't go on as they are," she continued vehemently.
I had no answer ready, and with a shrug of the shoulders she turned to another subject. "Is it true that you've turned spy?"
"Hoffnung seemed to suggest something of the sort yesterday."
She tossed her head and her lip curled. "If I were a man I'd rather be a street sweeper; but I'm not surprised at your liking it. It's these things in you that are so natural. Your new teeth may have altered your looks, but of course they haven't changed your nature."
I couldn't restrain a smile; things were panning out so well: and before I replied the door was opened gently and the loveliest child I had ever seen came in. She was a delicate-featured, golden-haired youngster of about eleven—the replica in miniature of the Countess—with big sea-blue eyes which fastened on me shyly as she stood hesitating at the door.