The compliment to his obstinacy seemed to please him—perhaps the crafty woman intended that it should—and he smiled.
“Well, there; let old times be old times, Sarah. You haven't done badly, after all,” and he looked round the well-furnished room. “What do you want?”
“There was a transport came in this morning.”
“Well?”
“You know who was on board her, Maurice!”
Maurice brought one hand into the palm of the other with a rough laugh.
“Oh, that's it, is it! 'Gad, what a flat I was not to think of it before! You want to see him, I suppose?” She came close to him, and, in her earnestness, took his hand. “I want to save his life!”
“Oh, that be hanged, you know! Save his life! It can't be done.”
“You can do it, Maurice.”
“I save John Rex's life?” cried Frere. “Why, you must be mad!”