"The paper that I have is certainly the paper that I left behind," he answered serenely, for he had himself well in hand by now. "And as for dubbing me a thief so readily" - he paused, and shrugged his shoulders - "you are a woman," he concluded, with an air suggesting that that fact was a conclusion to all things.
"Fool!" she blazed. "Do you think to overcome me by quibbles? Do you think to dupe me with words and shrugs?"
"My dear Cecile he begged half-whimsically, "may I implore you to use some restraint? Inured as I am to the unbounded licence of your tongue and to the abandon that seems so inherent in you, let me assure you that - "
"Ah! You can say Cecile now?" she cried, leaving the remainder of his speech unheeded. "Now that you need me; now that you want me to be a party to your treacherous designs against my uncle. Oh, you can say 'Cecile' and 'dear Cecile' instead of your everlasting 'Citoyenne'.
"It seems I am doomed to be always misunderstood by you," he laughed, and at the sound she started as if he had struck her.
Had she but looked in his eyes she had seen no laughter there; she might have realised that murder rather than mirth was in his soul - for, at all costs, he was determined to hold the paper he had been at such pains to get.
"I understand you well enough," she cried hotly, her cheeks flaming red of a sudden. "I understand you, you thief, you trickster. Do you think that I heard nothing of what passed this morning between my uncle and you? Do you think I do not know whose name you have written on that paper? Answer me," she commanded him.
"Since you know so much, what need for any questions?" quoth he coolly, transferring the coveted paper to his pocket as he spoke.
"And since we are so far agreed that I am not contradicting anything you say - nor, indeed, intend to - perhaps you will see the convenience of ending an interview that promises to be fruitless.
My dear Cecile, I am very grateful to you for the key of this room.
I beg that you will make my compliments to the Citizen your uncle upon his return, and inform him of how thoroughly you ministered to my wants."
With that and a superb air of insouciance, he made shift to go. But fronting him she barred his way.
"Give me that paper, sclerat," she demanded imperiously. "You shall not go until you surrender it. Give it to me or I will call Duplay."
"You may call the devil for aught I care, you little fool," he answered her, very pleasantly. "Do you think Duplay will be mad enough to lay hands upon a Deputy of the Convention in the discharge of the affairs of the Nation?"
"It is a lie!"
"Why, of course it is," he admitted sweetly. "But Duplay will not be aware of that."
"I shall tell him."
"Tut! He won't believe you. I'll threaten him with the guillotine if he does. And I should think that Duplay has sufficient dread of the national barber not to risk having his toilet performed by him.
Now, be reasonable, and let me pass."
Enraged beyond measure by his persiflage and very manifest contempt of her, she sprang suddenly upon him, and caught at the lapels of his redingote.
"Give me that paper!" she screamed, exerting her entire strength in a vain effort to boldly shake him.
Coldly he eyed this golden-haired virago now, and looked in vain for some trace of her wonted beauty in the stormy distortion of her face.
"You grow tiresome with your repetitions," he answered her impatiently, as, snatching at her wrists, he made her release her hold. "Let me go." And with that he flung her roughly from him.
A second she staggered, then, recovering her balance and without an instant's hesitation, she sped to the door. Imagining her intent to be to lock him in La Boulaye sprang after her. But it seemed that his mind had been more swift to fasten upon the wiser course than had hers. Instead, she snatched the key and closed the door on the inside. She wasted a moment fumbling at the lock, and even as he caught her by the waist the key slipped in, and before he dragged her back she had contrived to turn it, and now held it in her hand.
He laughed a trifle angrily as she twisted out of his grasp, and stood panting before him.
"You shall not leave this room with that paper," she gasped, her anger ever swelling, and now rendering her speech almost incoherent.
He set his arms akimbo, and surveyed her whimsically.
