"So you don't care to know what I shall learn to-night?"
"My dear lady, I won't tell you a thing," he said, with a laugh, "so stop trying. Leave us to fight our own battles. Plot all you want in your cunning head your little feminine plans, but don't get beyond your depth."
"I see you believe I'm interested in Majendie," she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. "You are not very well informed."
"No," he said bluntly; "you are interested in no one but Rita Kildair. I know that much." He rose, took several strides back and forth, and, returning, stood by her. "I hate allies," he said; "I prefer to consider you as a woman."
His remark brought a sharp gleam of curiosity to her eyes, a spark of instinctive sex antagonism that flashed and disappeared.
"Remember, I have warned you," she said, retiring as abruptly into the feline languor of her pose.
He stood, swayed by two emotions, the purely gentle, almost caressing effect her indolence brought him, and the desire to establish some sudden empire over her—to feel his strength above hers.
"What's the weak point in your armor?" he said savagely.
"I wouldn't tell you."
"I think I know one."