"Yes—as you understand it. A gang of cutthroats might say the same thing."
Collins flushed a little, but managed to keep his temper.
"I understand it as all diplomats understand it. I take no advantage that every diplomat would not take."
"Then God save me from diplomats!" retorted Vernon.
Collins flushed again, more deeply, and his eyes flashed with sudden fire.
"Your words verge upon the insulting," he said, after a moment. "I warn you not to try my patience too far. Perhaps, after this, you will see fit to choose other company—company more in accord with your really absurd ideals. But I would remind you of one thing—your career depends upon this affair. If it succeeds, you succeed. If it fails through any fault of yours, you are ruined. I assure you the fault will not be overlooked nor extenuated. You will pay for it!"
Vernon looked at him without answering, but his glance was full of meaning. Then he turned and left the room.
For a moment his companions stared after him—they had read his glance aright.
"We'll have to look sharp," said Collins, at last, "or he'll cause us trouble—he's ripe for it, confound him! We'd better wire the home office to hurry things up."
"Yes," agreed Blake, "there's no reasoning with a man in love."