"You owe me nothing," he said. "If you reckon profit and loss in your dealings with Aylmers, you have a wide balance against you. All I want is your friendly tolerance, while I pay in instalments."
She still seemed to ponder his proposal, to review it with the interest of a curiosity which has been imperfectly fed.
"What is your ultimate goal, then?" she asked.
He hesitated. A queer glint of passion shone in his eyes to sink into shadow again.
"My goal is the trapping of Landon into an English gaol, for espionage and robbery. Or—" He shrugged his shoulders meaningly.
"Or?"
"Or his death," he said, in very distinct, level tones.
"Ah!" The exclamation came from her almost unconsciously. Her face shone with a sudden alertness, her expression warmed, her eyes grew bright.
"You would not hesitate—at that?" she demanded.
Mr. Van Arlen made a little inarticulate murmur of protest; his hand was stretched towards her with appeal.