“And brought exposure and disaster upon yourself,” answered the man in harsh tones. “Within a week from to-day Europe will read in the Paris Press a most interesting correspondence which will reflect anything but honour upon the Royal House of Savoy.”
“Then you really intend to crush me, and send me to my death—eh?”
“I intend to act exactly as I have said,” was the fellow’s firm response. “When my mind is made up I never alter it.”
“So this is how you repay me for all my sacrifice for you—eh?” she asked with poignant bitterness, and a catch in her voice which was distinctly audible by the two men listening.
“The brute,” whispered Waldron loudly to his companion. “He shall answer to me for this!”
“But I appeal to you,” she implored; “I—”
“It is useless. I gave you an excellent opportunity of recovering your letters, but you have not taken it. The bargain, I repeat, was a fair and straightforward one. You wanted your letters—I wanted the key plan. But—” and he hesitated as though a sudden suggestion had crossed his mind. “Just wait a few moments. I have forgotten something in my room. I will not be a minute or two—and then we can resume this highly interesting conversation.”
And the two men listening breathlessly heard the door open and shut, and then the silence was broken only by Lola’s low, despairing sobs within.