“Ah!––that is a different matter.”
“You may find it a very serious matter, Captain Monroe.”
“Oh, no; I shan’t find it, I’m not looking for it,” and Monroe softly resumed, “The Union Forever.”
“If you take my advice,” began Masterson, angrily, “you’ll”––but Monroe shook his head.
“I shan’t, so don’t mention it,” he said, blandly. Masterson’s wordy anger showed him that he was master of the situation, so he only smiled as he added, “advice, you know, is something everybody gives and nobody takes,” and Monroe resumed his whistle.
“You think yourself cursedly clever,” and it was an effort for Masterson to keep from striking the cool, insolent face. “You thought so today when Madame Caron was suspected instead of yourself.”
“Madame Caron!” Monroe ceased the whistle and looked at him with a momentary frown, which Masterson welcomed as a sign of anger.
“Ah, that touches you, does it?”
“Only with wonder that you dare speak of her after your failure to make her the victim of your spies today,” and Monroe’s tone was again only contemptuous. “First you arrest me, then accuse Madame Caron. Evidently you are out of your sphere in detective work; it really requires considerable cleverness, you know. Yet, if it amuses you––well”––he made a little gesture of indifference and turned away, but Masterson stepped before him.