"I knew that it could only be
some one from your bureau, and I hoped that it was you. I saw how you
forced him to call us up here, and that was all you needed. It was
simple, of course, to trace the telephone call." Both of her hands
closed over one of his desperately. "Now, go, please. The Latin compact
is at an end; you merely invite death here. Now, go!"
Her eyes were searching the listless face with entreaty in them; the
slender fingers were fiercely gripping one of Mr. Grimm's nerveless
hands. For an instant some strange, softening light flickered in the
young man's eyes, then it passed.
"I have no choice, Miss Thorne," he said gravely at last. "I am honor
bound by my government to do one of two things. If I fail in the first
of those--the greater--it can only be because--"
He stopped; hope flamed up in her eyes and she leaned forward eagerly
studying the impassive face.
"Because--?" she repeated.
"It can only be because I am killed," he added quietly. Suddenly his
whole manner changed. "I should like to see the--the inventor?"
"But don't you see--don't you see you _will_ be killed if--?" she began
tensely.
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