"I ought to do it well," she said; "I have studied dramatic art and I have had some stage experience. It's a part and I must do it well. I shall, really—Kervyn, dear."
He laughed; the dangerous game was beginning to exhilarate them both, and a vivid colour began to burn in her delicate cheeks.
Suddenly the blond chauffeur pulled the car up along the curb in a crowded street and stopped.
"It is better, sir, to take a hansom from here to the wharf."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes, sir.... Pardon, sir, here are passports for madam and yourself." And he handed the papers very coolly to Guild.
The young man changed colour, realizing instantly that the papers were forged.
"Had I better take these?" he asked under his breath.
"Yes, sir," said Bush, smiling his eternal smile and opening the car door for them.
Guild descended. Bush set the luggage on the curb, touched his cap, and said: "Walk south, sir, until a cabby hails you. Good-bye, sir. A pleasant trip, madam." And he sprang back into the car, started it, and rolled away grinning from ear to ear.