He needed no further hint. He put away her halo and her crown, he drew the ermine from her, and the vision in her eyes was made manifest. But it was still too new for her to more than sip at the cup of delight; she would take her happiness by epicurean inches. So she slid away and evaded him, putting the chair half-mockingly between them.
"My father has forbidden me to come down here to see you," she said. "It's really quite romantic. But of course I told him I should come, nevertheless, so we can't quite call it clandestine. He'll never dare ask me if I've been here. He's quite afraid of me, when I insist upon having my own way."
"Have you said anything about Madam Spoll and Vixley to him?"
"Yes, but that's no use. They certainly seem to have given him some wonderful tests—I don't see how they could have done so well—and he's absolutely convinced. I don't see what we can do, unless we wait for them to go too far and arouse his suspicions. I can't think he's feeble-minded. They're making him pay, though that's the least of the matter."
"I have had an idea that I might get hold of one of the gang—a Doctor Masterson—and induce him to sell them out. He's a turncoat, and if he only knows enough about their game he could be bribed."
"I must leave it to you, Francis. I don't like that method, exactly, but we must do what we can. Perhaps it will settle itself. We can do nothing yet, at any rate. To-day I've come down to ask you to invite me to lunch, please!"
"With pleasure—only, if I must confess—I don't know that I can offer you a very good one. Wait I'll see how much money I have left." He felt doubtfully in his pocket, and added, "Oh, that's all right, we can go to the Palace."
Clytie was instantly suspicious. "How much have you?"
"Quite enough."
"Answer me, sir!"