So this was the end of things? The dreams she had had of going away with Braine to other climes, the happiness she had pictured, all mere chimeras! A sudden rage swept over her. She would escape, she would continue to play the game to the end. She would show them that she had been the man's mate, not his pliant tool. She raised the window and stepped out onto the balcony .... into the hands of the policeman who had patiently been waiting for her to do so! Instantly she placed the revolver at her temple. A quick clutch, and the policeman had her by the wrist. She made one tigerish effort to free herself, shrugged, and signified that she surrendered.
"I don't want to hurt you, Miss," said the policeman; "but if you make any attempt to escape, I'll have to put the handcuffs on you."
"I'll go quietly. What are you going to do with me?"
"Turn you over to the Russian agent. He has extradition papers; and I guess it's Siberia."
"FLORENCE, THAT IS ALL YOURS"
"For me?" She laughed scornfully. "Do I look like a woman who would go to Siberia?"
"Be careful, Miss. As I said, I don't want to put the cuffs on unless I have to."
She laughed again. It did not have a pleasant sound in the officer's ears. He had heard women, suicidal bent, laugh like that.