"Assuredly, Monsieur—if you will but help."
Jim Horton laughed.
"Then you no longer believe I have an ax to grind?"
"No—no, Monsieur."
"And you no longer cherish evil thoughts of Piquette?"
"Upon my honor," said the Duc, a jeweled hand at his heart. "And yet, Monsieur, you can hardly blame me for some irritation at meeting her here with you."
Jim Horton glanced toward the door significantly. And then dryly, "You hardly deserve her, Monsieur de Vautrin. I am proud of her friendship. It's the finest thing in my life."
De Vautrin wagged his head foolishly and then shrugged a futile shoulder.
"What do you want me to do, Monsieur?" he asked peevishly.
Horton lighted a cigarette carefully and took Piquette by the hand.