“You have violent fancies,” he remarked, “and strange ones.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted.  “They concern no one except myself.”

“This Souspennier craze, for instance!”

She nodded.

“Well, you can’t say that I’m not honest.  It is positively my only virtue.  I adore the truth.  I loathe a lie.  That is one reason, I daresay, why I can only barely tolerate you.  You are a shocking —­a gross liar.”

“Muriel!”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she exclaimed irritably.  “You must hear the truth sometimes.  And now, please remember that I came to lunch with you to hear about your visit this morning.”

The Prince gnawed his moustache, and the light in his eyes was not a pleasant thing to see.  This woman with her reckless life, her odd fascination, her brusque hatred of affectations, was a constant torment to him.  If only he could once get her thoroughly into his power.

“My visit,” he said, “was wholly successful.  It could not well be otherwise.  Lucille has returned to Dorset House.  Souspennier is confounded altogether by a little revelation which I ventured to make.  He spoke of an appeal.  I let him know with whom he would have to deal.  I left him nerveless and crushed.  He can do nothing save by open revolt.  And if he tries that—­well, there will be no more of this wonderful Mr. Sabin.”

“Altogether a triumph to you,” she remarked scornfully.  “Oh, I know the sort of thing.  But, after all, my dear Ferdinand, what of last night.  I hate the woman, but she played the game, and played it well.  We were fooled, both of us.  And to think that I—­”

She broke off with a short laugh.  The Prince looked at her curiously.

“Perhaps,” he said, “you had some idea of consoling the desolate husband?”

“Perhaps I had,” she answered coolly.  “It didn’t come off, did it?  Order me some coffee, and give me a cigarette, my friend.  I have something else to say to you.”

He obeyed her, and she leaned back in the high chair.

“Listen to me,” she said.  “I have nothing whatever to do with you and Lucille.  I suppose you will get your revenge on Souspennier through her.  It won’t be like you if you don’t try, and you ought to have the game pretty well in your own hands.  But I won’t have Souspennier harmed.  You understand?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Souspennier,” he said, “must take care.  If he oversteps the bounds he must pay the penalty.”

She leaned forward.  There was a look in her face which he knew very well.

“You and I understand one another,” she said coolly.  “If you want me for an enemy you can have me.  Very likely I shall tell you before long that you can do what you like with the man.  But until I do it will be very dangerous for you if harm comes to him.”

“It is no use,” he answered doggedly.  “If he attacks he must be silenced.”