"To be sure; but not enough to hurt." His manner suddenly became businesslike, "Look here," he asked her, "are you game to make a tidy bit of money?"
"Always!" she replied promptly, also becoming businesslike.
He explained in detail. She listened in silence at first with a slight smile of contempt on her lips. As he progressed, however, the smile faded.
"Where do I come in?" she asked finally.
"You must be there when the message comes to her. She might not go out to Jake's alone—probably wouldn't. I don't know her well enough to judge. Hurry her into it."
"I see." She laughed suddenly. "Lord, she'll be surprised when I call on her! Take some doing, that!" She thought a few moments. "My appearance will connect us with it. Won't do."
"If the thing goes through we won't be here," he pointed out. "If it doesn't go through all right, we'll arrange a little comedy. Have you bound and gagged—before her eyes—or something like that."
"Thanks," she replied to this.
Morrell was not entirely open. He did not tell her that money or no money, plot or no plot, he had resolved to flee the city, at least for a time. Investigations were getting too close to some of his past activities. He did not offer in words what he nevertheless knew to be the most potent of his arguments—namely, the implacable hate Mrs. Morrell bore Keith. Morrell's knowledge of this hate was accurate, though his analysis of its cause was faulty. He thought his wife to be Keith's discarded mistress, and did not greatly care. Nor did he mention the possibility which, however, Mrs. Morrell now voiced.
"Suppose Keith follows them out to Jake's?" she suggested.