Magda’s soft laugh rippled out.
“But how selfish! And—and aren’t you being rather mysterious?”
“Am I?” he returned pointedly. “Surely self-preservation is the first instinct of the human species?”
She picked up the challenge and tossed it lightly back to him.
“Is the danger, then, very great?”
“I think it is. So, like a wise man, I propose to avoid it.”
“How?”
“Why, by quitting the danger zone. I go to Paris to-morrow.”
“To Paris?”
Magda experienced a sudden feeling of blankness. It was inexplicable, but somehow the knowledge that Quarrington was going away seemed to take all the savour out of things. It was only by a supreme effort that she contrived to keep her tone as light and unconcerned as his own as she continued: