It's _you_--you must get away!" She was forcing the packet from her bosom into his hands.
"Take care of these, quick! Now here's the window ready.

Oh, Jim, get away while you've got the chance!" "I can't do it!" he protested.
"You _must_, I tell you.

I wouldn't lie to you! On my honor, I promise you I'll come out of this room, unharmed and free! But quick, or we'll both lose!" Even in that moment of peril the thought that she was still ready to face this much for him filled his shaken body with a glow that was more keenly exhilarating than wine itself.

There was no time for words or demonstration: the action carried its own eloquence.
He was already halfway through the opened window, but he turned back.
"Do you care, then ?" he panted.
He could hear the quick catch of her breath.
"Good or bad, I love you, Jim! You know that! Now, hurry, oh, hurry!" He caught her hand in his--that was all there was time for--while with his free hand Durkin thrust the packet down into his pocket.
"If it turns out wrong--I mean if anything should happen to me, go straight to the Embassy with them, in Rome.

Good-bye!" "Ah, then you _do_ expect danger!" he retorted, already back at the window again.
"No--no!" she whispered, resolutely, barring his ingress.