I will
tell you the truth, Madame. My father never expected to collect
the moneys so long as Leopold sat on the throne."
The whistle grew shrill.
"This officer here," continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel
made a comical grimace, "suggests violence. I shall save him the
trouble. I have seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of
it --and, knowing it as I do, it is scarcely probable that I
should carry about my person the equivalent of four millions of
crowns."
"Well, Madame," said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about
his hips, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of
departure, "what he says is true, every word of it. I see
nothing more to do at present."
Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to the
Colonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle.
"Monsieur," she said, coldly, "have you no other tune in your
repertory?"
"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you."
He stepped down out of the window.
"You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous."
"I will whistle anything you may suggest," he volunteered.
She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her
gray eyes grew large with anger.
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