"There is no other way," he said.

He dropped back, his head sunk on his breast, his teeth gnawing at the

projecting under-lip; and she stood looking down at him, though scarcely

seeing him. Suddenly he glanced up at her, his lips twitching; a certain

furtive gleam in his light eyes.

"Oh, well, never mind, old girl!" he said, with an affectation of

concurrence. "Perhaps you're right. We'll give it up. Don't worry; after

all, I dessay I shall find another way out. Here! you'd better go back

to the old man. Go and play to him; he likes you to." As she moved

towards the door, he called to her in a cautious undertone. "Here!

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Miriam, come back. Now I come to think of it, I'm sure you're right as

to not giving him a hint. Don't do it; in fact, if he says anything

about the diamonds, say that you'd rather not have them at present. You

can say that we're likely to be moving about, and that you'd rather wait

until we've settled down. You might lose 'em, don't you know."

Miriam looked at him, as if puzzled by this sudden volte-face; then,

with a slight shrug of her shoulders, went out of the room. When the

door had closed on her, Heyton rose and began to move about the room

unsteadily. His narrow forehead was contracted, as if he were thinking

deeply; his lips worked, his hands closed and unclosed in his pockets in

which they were thrust, and he glanced from side to side furtively. So

might a criminal look while plotting a coup more than usually risky and

dangerous. Presently he came alongside the table on which the footman

had placed the spirit-bottles and syphons. Heyton mixed himself a stiff

glass of whisky and soda, drank it almost at a draught, then nodded at

the reflection of himself in the mirror opposite him.

"I think I could work it," he muttered. "Yes, I think I could work it."




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