"You must believe me," he said, impressively, "though I can't tell you more. Even of this you mustn't breathe a word to any one. Mr. Dreux has had to permit this misunderstanding, much against his will, because of the secrecy imposed upon him."
With wonderful quickness the anger died out of Felicite's face, to be replaced by a look of sweetness.
"A detective!" she cried, turning to Bernie. "You work for the public good, at the risk of your life? And that dago woman is one of the Mafia? What a noble work! You forgive me?"
Instantly Mr. Dreux's embarrassment left him and he assumed a chilling haughtiness.
"Forgive you? After such a scene? My dear girl, that's asking a good deal."
Felicite's lips trembled, her eyes, as they turned to Norvin, held such an appeal that he hastened to reassure her.
"Of course he forgives you. He's delighted that you care enough to be jealous."
Bernie grinned, whereupon his peppery sweetheart exploded angrily:
"You delight in my unhappiness, villain! You enjoy my sufferings! Very well! You have flirted; I shall flirt You drive me to distraction; I shall behave accordingly. That Antoine Giroux worships me and would buy a ring for me to-morrow if I would consent."
"I'll murder him!" exclaimed Dreux, with more savagery than his friend believed was in him.