I hold him in my hand.

You can trust to him, but only through me!" Berthe Louison raised her eyes and then fixed a searching glance upon Alan Hawke, as if she would read his very soul.
"And, can I trust you ?" she said, almost solemnly.
"You remember our strange compact, Madame," coldly said Alan Hawke.
"Here, face to face with the enemy, I expect to know what is required of me--and also what my future recompense will be." "Ah, I forgot," mused the strange lady of the bungalow.

"You have the right to teach me a lesson, in both manners and business.

I forgot how sharply I had drawn the line, myself.

Well, Sir, I will trust to you without any assurance on your part." She rang the silver bell at her side, once, and the silent Jules appeared, as attentive as Rastighello in the boudoir of the Duchess of Ferrara.