He did not look at her for fear that he would betray the confirmation of his suspicion. But the impulse stirred in him to follow this line of subjective inquiry still further.
"And yet I cannot forget that it was you, Zoya, who at a doubtful moment swung the Council of Nemi in my favor."
"I have not regretted it--nor shall I."
"I owe you much. I am about to place myself in a position where I shall owe you more. With your help in Munich I am doubly armed. Something tells me that we shall win. But I must pay----"
"You shall pay me with your friendship, Philippe," she murmured. "That is all I ask. You will give it me, will you not?"
She was clever. He drew closer and looked into her eyes which had in them something of the appealing quality of a child's. It was difficult for him to believe that her expressions were not genuine, but he could not forget the warnings of Tanya Korasov and smiled into her eyes with a boyish frankness.
"Have I not already given it to you, Zoya? Last night--you didn't mind? Your lips were very close.... They are very close now----"
Max Liederman narrowly missed a tree at the side of the road. Then he swore that terrible German oath which translated means "thunder weather," slowed his pace, stopped the car, then turned around in his seat.
"What do you talk about in English, you two?" he roared, his face as black as the weather he apostrophized. "Is it not enough to try and drive rapidly without these distractions behind me? You will come to the front seat, Zoya," he growled, "or I shall drive no further."
"By all means," said Rowland cheerfully, getting up and opening the door. "If Madame will descend."