"There lie my country's secrets." "They're safe from me," I said pertly.

(And so indeed they were--now.) "They're too uninteresting to amuse me in the least." As I spoke I found and abstracted the dummy treaty and slipped the real one into its place.

Then I laid the envelope with the note I had written where he could not help finding it at first or second glance.
"Now you can close the safe," I said.
He shut the door, and I almost breathed aloud the words that burst from my heart, "Thank Heaven!" "I must leave you," I told him.

And I was kind for a moment, capricious no longer, because, though the treaty had been restored, I was going to open the cage of Godensky's vengeance, and--I was afraid of him.
"I may come to you as soon as I'm free ?" Raoul asked.
"Yes.

Come and tell me what you think of the news, and--what you think of me," I said.