In this way Leah solved her problem, and Aksakoff gained his point; yet, on the face of it, their conversation dealt entirely with the saving of Demetrius from a Siberian prison, and Katinka and Katinka's matrimonial salvation. But Lady Jim knew that, if she could lure the doctor to Paris, she would not longer need to fear a Sabine alliance; while the diplomatist was satisfied that, for two thousand pounds, Demetrius would be safely transported to Siberia. Leah, guessing this, let him think that the money tempted her, though she wondered how he came to know that she needed cash, and was secretly angered that he should dare to offer a bribe. But she could not confess her true reason for wishing the exile of Demetrius without letting Aksakoff know about the plot; therefore, of the two evils she chose the less. But she resolved to take no Russian gold. This cynical foreigner should learn that a strictly virtuous Englishwoman cannot be bought. It was commendable in these augurs that they did not wink at one another.
Their reappearance at the tea-table was greeted with shrieks of joy from Lady Richardson, whose emotions were invariably noisy. "Leah! Leah!" she cried, overcome by maternal love and pride, "Billy has won you twelve thousand francs."
"Twelve thousand five hundred," corrected Sir Billy, who was disposing of tea and cake and sandwiches in a way which argued long abstinence.
"Five hundred pounds," translated Captain Lake.
"Oh, you dear, clever boy!" said Lady Jim, coming rapidly to the table to kiss her catspaw. "Halves, of course."
Sir Billy shook his head and tried to keep cool, for the kiss rather upset his dignity. "I am more than repaid," said he gallantly.
"So I should think," murmured Askew, who would have doubled the amount for a similar attention.
Mamie overheard, and recalled a phrase she had never used before, but which suited her impersonation of the American girl as--she is not. "Don't put the banana-peel under your own foot, sonny!"
"What do you mean?" asked the mystified islander.
Miss Mulrady glanced at Lady Jim's back, then winked at Askew to intimate that she had remarkably good eyesight; also, that kissing married women led to D.C. cross-examinations; also,--but there was no end to the many meanings of that wink. Lord Burleigh's head-shake, in The Critic, Act II., scene 1, could not have been more eloquent.