Then one day she encountered Harleston, and bested him. With a rare good nature for a diplomat, he had taken his defeat with a smile, at the same time observing her manifold attractions with a careful eye and an indulgent mind for the past. Which caused her to look at him again, and to think of him frequently; and at last to want him for her own--after a little while. And he had appeared not averse to the wanting--after a little while. Now, just as he was about to succumb, he was suddenly whisked away by another woman--that woman simply a later edition of herself: the same figure, the same poise, the same methods, the same allurements; but younger in years, fresher, and, she admitted it to herself, less acquainted with the ways of men. And now she had lost him; and never would she be able to get him back. Another woman had filched him from her--filched him forever from her, she knew.
Therefore she hated Mrs. Clephane with a glowing hate.
"Have you seen the--_man_?" Marston asked, when her attention came back to him.
She nodded. "I've had a communication from him."
"Not yet. He will duly apprise me. Meanwhile we, or rather I, am to remain quiet and wait expectantly."
"Of course. He would be off like a colt if he thought that I had a corps of assistants."
"The longer the delay the more chance France has to repeat the letter by cable," Marston remarked.
"Certainly--but I shan't be fool enough to tell him so, or anything as to the letter. He would end negotiations instantly."
"It's a long way to go," Marston observed.
"No, only inexperienced in deception and over cautious. Moreover, it is a serious business."
"Particularly since Harleston is on the trail?" Marston added.
Mrs. Spencer nodded again. "We'll pray that he does not uncover the matter until we are up and away."
"If we pray, it should be effective!" Marston laughed.
"It likely will be--one way or the other," she returned drily. "However, if we are careful, a prayer more or less won't effect much damage. It's really up to the--man in the case. If he can get away with it, we can manage the rest."
"Then there will be nothing on us, unless the Clephane letter is translated and implicates me by name--or Paris resorts to cable. If it were not for France's meddling, it would be ridiculously simple so far as we are concerned; everything would be up to the man."