Moreno smiled, well pleased with the delicate flattery. He always had a kindly feeling towards anybody who praised his mental qualities.
He saw her to the door. As they parted, she lifted up her face.
“You would not care to kiss a woman of my type—bad, selfish and unscrupulous as you know me to be?” she said boldly.
For a second he hesitated. Then he kissed her lightly on her pale cheek. He could not bring himself yet to touch her lips.
“Anyway, you are going to do a good thing now,” he said, as she passed out.
Chapter Twenty.
During these hot summer days, poor Isobel lived in alternate fits of hope and despair.
Guy visited her every day. He always seemed very cheerful, full of optimism. The forces of law and order must prevail; these mad anarchists, well organised as they were, and led by a most subtle brain, would be defeated very shortly. Once the Heads were taken, the movement would suffer a speedy eclipse.