She had succeeded in startling and mystifying him beyond
expression.
What dodge was this that cloaked itself in such anomalous semblance of
good faith? She had not known he was acquainted with her plan to leave
France; he had discounted a hundred devices to keep it from his
knowledge. And now she not only confessed it openly, but invited him to
go with her! In the name of unreason--why? She knew, for he had owned,
his possessing purpose. He did not for an instant believe Liane Delorme
would fly France and leave behind the Montalais jewels. Did she think
he did not suspect her of knowing more about them than she had chosen
to admit? Did she imagine that he was one of those who can see only
that which is in the distance? Did she do him the injustice to believe
him incapable of actually smelling out the jewels if ever he got within
range of them?
But conjecture was too idle, Liane was too deep for him; her intent
would declare itself when she willed it, not before, unless he could
lull her into a false sense of faith in him, trick her into betraying
herself by inadvertence.
"But, my dear friend, why America?"
"You recall asking me to help you last night? Did I not promise to do
what I could? Well, I am not one to forget my promise.
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