"But what excuse can I possibly make for approaching her?" she asked bewildered.
"Pretend you've come to Paris to offer to take her into your service again," Boyne suggested. "She will then meet you, and you can express regret that you sent her away so suddenly, and offer to make reparation—and all that."
"There was an object in sending her away so peremptorily. You know what it was, Bernie."
"I know, of course. She might have discovered something then. You adopted the only course—but, unfortunately, it has turned out to have been a most injudicious one, which may, if we are not very careful and don't act at once, lead to the exposure of a very nasty circumstance—the affair of old Martin."
"I quite see," she said. "I'll go to Paris without delay."
"You'll stay at the Bristol, as before, I suppose?"
"Yes. I will ask her to come and see me there."
Boyne hesitated.
"No. I don't know whether it would not be better for you to go out to Melun for the day and find her there," he queried. "Remember, you must handle the affair with the greatest delicacy. You've practically got to pay her for blackmail which she has not sought."
"That's the difficulty. And the sum must be equal, if not more, to that which she and her French friend who has come over here to seek and identify you hope to get out of it by their disclosures. Oh! yes," she said, "I quite see it all."