Therefore she hated Mrs. Clephane with a glowing hate.
“Have you seen the—man?” Marston asked, when her attention came back to him.
She nodded. “I’ve had a communication from him.”
“Anything doing?”
“Not yet. He will duly apprise me. Meanwhile we, or rather I, am to remain quiet and wait expectantly.”
“He thinks you are alone?”
“Of course. He would be off like a colt if he thought that I had a corps of assistants.”
“The longer the delay the more chance France has to repeat the letter by cable,” Marston remarked.
“Certainly—but I shan’t be fool enough to tell him so, or anything as to the letter. He would end negotiations instantly.”
“When are you to see him?”