It's risky,
Marston; it's thankless; it's without glory and without fame;
nevertheless it's a fascinating game; the stakes are incalculable, the
remuneration is the best."
"You're quite right as to those high up in the service," Marston
remarked, "the remuneration, I mean, but not as to us poor devils who
are only the pawns. We not only have no glory nor honour, but
considering the danger and what we do we are mightily ill paid, my lady,
mightily ill paid. The fascination and danger of the game, as you say,
is what holds us. At any rate, it's what holds me--and the pleasure of
working sometimes with you, and what that means."
"And we always win when together because we are in accord," she smiled,
holding out her hand to him. "Team work, my good friend, team work!"
He took the hand, and bending over raised it to his lips with an air of
fine courtesy and absolute devotion.
"And we shall win this time, Marston," she went on, "we shall sail for
Europe before the week is ended--I'm sure of it."
"I shall be satisfied if we never sail--or sail always," he returned,
and slowly released her fingers and stepped back.
She paid him with a ravishing smile; and Madeline Spencer, when she
wished, could smile a man into fire--and out again.
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