"But still," she flashed at me, "you won't inform on me just for that?
I asked you to help me; you were free to refuse--and you agreed! Because
it inconvenienced you a little, are you going to turn police agent?" Her
red lips twisted proudly, scornfully. "I don't believe it, Mr. Bayne!"
I laughed shortly. She was indeed an artist.
"I wasn't thinking of that particular episode--" I began.
"But you did resent it. I saw it when you first joined me. And I was
so glad to see you--to have the chance of thanking you!" she broke in,
smoldering still.
"No, I didn't resent it. I didn't even blame you. If I blamed any one,
Miss Falconer, it would certainly be myself. I've concluded I ought
not to go about without a keeper. My gullibility must have amused you
tremendously." I laughed.
"I never thought you gullible," she denied, suddenly wistful. "I thought
you very generous and very chivalrous, Mr. Bayne."
This was carrying mockery too far.
"I am afraid," I said meaningly, "that the authorities at Gibraltar
would take a less flattering view.
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