What the devil is her game?
I know mine, and I swear that I will soon know hers.

I have him guessing now.

I must hunt up Hardwicke and call on old Willoughby to keep up the dumb show.

Johnstone may watch me--very likely he will.

He is afraid of some coup de theatre." He drove in a leisurely way back to the Club and sported the oak after giving Ram Lal his last orders.
"I think I hear the jingle of gold 'in the near future,' as the Yankees say; and, Miss Justine, you shall open the way to the veiled Rose of Delhi for me, while Berthe Louison tortures this old vetch.