"
"And you'll tell no one else?"
"I must reserve that right."
"It's not in our bargain!" protested Olive. "You were to disappear
completely."
"It won't affect our bargain," he retorted.
"That's for me to say."
"Heaven knows that I've given up to you enough already!"
"I ask you to swear to me you'll never tell anyone else! Not even hint
at it!"
"I can't promise it."
"That's your last word?"
"Yes."
Olive flashed hate at him. Her hands were quivering when she answered,
as though she could have torn him in pieces.
"Very well, then! I'll reserve my right of action too!" Her fingers
reached for the electric bell and pressed it imperatively.
When Sylvester appeared, she said decisively: "Have a cab called for Mr
Riviere."
"Certainly," he answered.
The financier took up hat and stick, and with a cold "good-bye" passed
out of the open door, Sylvester following him.
Presently the secretary returned to confer with Olive. Larssen had told
him to keep in touch with her.
* * * * *
Clifford Matheson was once more John Riviere. He picked up his valise at
the Avon Hotel and caught the first boat train for Germany. It took him
to the Continent via Queenboro'--Flushing.
His thoughts on the railway journey to Queenboro' were very different to
those which had filled his mind when he sped Calaiswards on his way to
England. Then, he had felt as if he had just plunged into an ice-cold
lake, and emerged tingling in every limb with the vigour of health
renewed.
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