Mme. Estelle eyed him calmly.
“Indeed,” she said. “But even though the crisis in our fortunes arrived within the next ten minutes there are certain questions which I must ask you first.”
Melun fidgeted impatiently. He realised that he could no longer baulk the question of Lady Kathleen, and the sooner he got himself out of the difficulty the better for his day's work.
“George,” said Madame, stretching out her right hand and brushing Melun's lightly with her fingers, “George, are you playing me false?”
“Playing you false?” he cried, with a fine show of indignation. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that either you have told me too much or too little. If I am to believe you, the Premier's secret which we hold is worth at least half a million of pounds. You say you are certain of the money, and that the moment it is yours we are to be married and leave this miserable mode of life. If this is so I am content. But now I hear other news. I hear that this is not the only price which you are asking for the return of the Premier's papers. I am told that as part of the bargain you are to be permitted to marry Lady Kathleen.”
Melun jumped out of his chair.
“It's a lie!” he shouted, “and I'll take my oath that that rattle-brained fool Westerham is responsible for your stupid fancies.”
“But are they fancies?” urged Madame.
“Fancies! Of course they are fancies. What good do you think it would do me to be tied to a girl like that? Surely half a million should content any man. I wish to be free to pursue my life with you. The sooner indeed I am free from all this business the better.