At any rate,
it gives me a better title than yours."
"If the party who left them with you had a good title," he amended. "If,
however, he obtained them from--a deserted cab, say--then his title
would be no better than you've put in me; not so good, in fact, for
according to your tale I have the envelope."
She shrugged again.
"Now as to your third contingency," she went on, "I am not able to say
what is the nature of the document, nor whom nor what nation it
concerns."
"You mean that you're ignorant of its contents and its nature?" he
asked.
She met his glance frankly. "I mean that I haven't any idea of its
contents or its purpose."
He slowly tapped his cigarette against the swinging brass ash-receiver.
"Wouldn't it be well, my dear Madame X, to lay your cards on the
table--all your cards?"
"I'm perfectly willing, if you'll do likewise," she replied instantly.
He looked at her thoughtfully.
"Very well," he returned. "Let me see your hand and you shall see mine."
"This one?" she smiled, holding it up.
He leaned over and took the long, slim fingers in the tips of his
own--and she let him.
"It's mighty pretty," he said, with assumed gravity. "Am I to have it
in place of the facts--or along with them?"
"Neither at present," withdrawing her hand.
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