“No, I want to do the business myself first, so that it won’t be left for another. If Hyacinth will look in his place at a grand party shall not I look still more in mine? And as I know the individual I should be able to approach him without exciting the smallest suspicion.”
Muniment appeared for a little to consider her suggestion as if it were practical and interesting; but presently he answered quietly enough: “To fall by your hand would be too good for him.”
“However he falls, will it be useful, valuable?” the Princess asked.
“It’s worth trying. He’s a very bad institution.”
“And don’t you mean to go near Hyacinth?”
“No, I wish to leave him free.”
“Ah, Paul Muniment,” she said, “you are a first-rate man!” She sank down on the sofa and sat looking up at him. “In God’s name, why have you told me this?”
“So that you shall not be able to throw it up at me later that I haven’t.”
She flung herself over, burying her face in the cushions, and remained so for some minutes in silence. He watched her a while without speaking, then at last brought out: “I don’t want to aggravate you, but you will go back!” The words failed to cause her even to raise her head, and after a moment he—as for the best attenuation of any rudeness—stepped out of the room.