"Bella Donna is not so very subtle!"
"You think subtlety so necessary?" she asked, with a light tinge of irony. "I really don't see why."
His eyes narrowed till they were only slits through which gleamed a yellowish light.
"When is your French maid going?" he asked.
She moved, and sat looking at him for a minute without replying. Had he read her thought of the morning?
"My maid!" she said at length. "What do you mean? Why should she go?"
"When is she going?" he repeated.
The brigand had suddenly reappeared in him.
"What an absurd idea! I can't possibly get on without a maid."
She still acted a careless surprise. An obscure voice within her—a voice that she scarcely recognized, whispered to her, "Resist!"