“Chester,� she said finally, “you’re the biggest fool I ever knew. You’re always making mistakes. That finger-print! That slip in Paris, ten years ago. And now, you stepping on a rug and blundering about.
Why didn’t you come straight to me—not like a thief in the night?â€�
“I came the way I was sent!�
She arched her brows. “The Yard don’t send their agents that way,� she said.
“So!â€� said Fay, “you know! You got me out so I’d be a stool-pigeon for Sir Richard. That’s it—is it?â€�
“A stool, Chester? Think what you’re saying. Think of the old, old days when we were going dead wrong. Why, this is a different thing!�
“What do you mean, Saidee?�
She smiled inscrutably, which was her ancient charm to him. Her eyes glowed as she reached out an overly jeweled hand. “All bets in the crook game are off,� she said with American directness. “They’re off for a time, Chester. I got you out of Dartmoor for bigger game.�
Fay had never fully understood Saidee Isaacs. The riddle-woman was strong in her. She was two natures as wide apart as the poles. She could hate stronger and longer than anybody he had ever known. Her love, which had never been given to any man, would mean all in all.
“You,� he said bitterly, “were long in getting to this big game. It’s been five years, plus one day, since you told me to have courage, in that court room. That was just after the beak pronounced the limit.�