She was
deathly pale again, and all the light had gone out of her eyes leaving
them dull as if she had been sick with some long illness.
"What will become of me?" she stammered. "The treaty lost! My God--what
shall I do? Ivor, you are killing me. Do you know--you are killing me?"
The word "treaty" was new to me in this connection, for the Foreign
Secretary had not thought it necessary that his messenger should be
wholly in his secrets--and Maxine's. Yet hearing the word brought no
great surprise. I knew that I had been cat's-paw in some game of high
stakes. But it was of Maxine I thought now, and the importance of the
loss to her, not the national disaster which it might well be also.
"Wait," I said, "don't despair yet. There's some mistake. Perhaps we
shall be able to see light when we've thrashed this out and talked it
over. I know I had a green letter-case. It never left my pocket. I
thought of it and guarded it every moment. Could those diamonds have
been inside it? Could the Foreign Secretary had given me the necklace,
_instead_ of what you expected?"
"No, no," she answered with desperate impatience. "He knew that the only
thing which could save me was the document I'd sent him.
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