It wasn't
as easy to do as it looked from the photograph I saw, because it was so
high up, and the balconies were quite far apart, after all. But I
couldn't fail Ivor; and I got across. The rest was nothing--except the
climbing back. I don't know how the document came in the box, though I
suppose Ivor put it there to hide it from the police. It was wrapped up
in a towel; and it's quite clean."
"I think," I said slowly, when she had finished her story, "that you
have a right to set a high price on that document. You are a brave
girl."
"It's not much to be brave for a man you love, is it? And now I'm going
to give the thing to you, because I trust you, Mademoiselle de Renzie. I
know you'll pay. And I hope, oh, I _feel_, it won't hurt you as you
think it will."
Then, as if it had been some ordinary paper, she whipped from a long
pocket of a coat she wore, the treaty. She put it into my hand. I felt
it, I clasped it. I could have kissed it. The very touch of it made me
tremble.
"Do you know what this is, Miss Forrest?" I asked.
"No," she said. "It was yours, or Ivor's. Of course I didn't look."
And then there came the rap, rap, of the call-boy at the door.
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