"They're doing enough damage as it is," said Barres, "with their traitorous press, their pacifists, their agents everywhere inciting labour to strike, teaching disorganisation, combining commercially, directing blackmail, bomb outrages, incendiaries, and infesting the Republic with a plague of spies----"

The studio bell rang sharply. Barres, who stood near the door, opened it.

"Thessa!" he exclaimed, astonished and delighted.

XV

BLACKMAIL

She came in swiftly, stirring the sultry stillness of the studio with a little breeze from her gown, faintly fragrant.

"Garry, dear!--" She gave him both her hands and looked at him; and he saw the pink tint of excitement in her cheeks and her dark eyes brilliant.

"Thessa, this is charming of you----"

"No! I came----" She cast a swift glance around her, beheld Westmore, gave him one hand as he came forward.

"How do you do?" she said, almost breathlessly, plainly controlling some inward excitement.

But Westmore retained her hand and laid the other over it.

"You _said_ you'd come to the Ritz----"

"I'm sorry.... I have been--bothered--with matters--affairs----"

"You are bothered now," he said. "If you have something to say to Garry, I'll go about my business.... Only I'm sorry it's not your business, too."

He released her hand and reached for the door-k.n.o.b: her dark eyes were resting on him with a strained, intent expression. On impulse she thrust out her arm and closed the door, which he had begun to open.

"Please--Mr. Westmore.... I do want to see you. I'm trying to think clearly--" She turned and looked at Barres.

"Is it serious?" he said in a low voice.

"I--suppose so.... Garry, I wish to--to come here ... and stay."

"What!"

She nodded.

"Is it all right?"

"All right," he replied pleasantly, bewildered and almost inclined to laugh.

She said in a low, tense voice.

"I'm really in trouble, Garry. I told you once that the word was not in my vocabulary.... I've had to include it."

"I'm so sorry! Tell me all about----"

He checked himself: she turned to Westmore--a deeper flush came into her cheeks--then she said gravely:

"I scarcely know Mr. Westmore, but if he is like you, Garry--your sort--perhaps he----"

"He'd do anything for you, Thessa, if you'll let him. Have you confidence in me?"

"You know I have."

"Then you can have the same confidence in Jim. I suggest it because I have a hazy idea what your trouble is. And if you came to ask advice, then I think that you'll get double value if you include Jim Westmore in your confidence."

She stood silent and with heightened colour for a moment, then her expression became humorous, and, partly turning, she put out her gloved hand behind her and took hold of Westmore's sleeve. It was at once an appeal and an impulsive admission of her confidence in this young man whom she had liked from the beginning, and who must be trustworthy because he was the friend of Garret Barres.

"I'm scared half to death," she remarked, without a quaver in her voice, but her smile had now become forced, and a quick, uneven little sigh escaped her as she pa.s.sed her arms through Barres' and Westmore's, and, moving across the carpet between them, suffered herself to be installed among the Chinese cushions upon the lounge by the open window.

In her distractingly pretty summer hat and gown, and with her white gloves and gold-mesh purse in her lap--her fresh, engaging face and daintily rounded figure--Thessalie Dunois seemed no more mature, no more experienced in worldly wisdom, than the charming young girls one pa.s.ses on Fifth Avenue on a golden morning in early spring.

But Westmore, looking into her dark eyes, divined, perhaps, something less inexperienced, less happy in their lovely, haunted depths. And, troubled by he knew not what, he waited in silence for her to speak.

Barres said to her:

"You are being annoyed, Thessa, dear. I gather that much from what has already happened. Can Jim and I do anything?"

"I don't know.... It's come to a point where I--I'm afraid--to be alone."

Her gaze fell; she sat brooding for a few moments, then, with a quick intake of breath:

"It humiliates me to come to you. Would you believe that of me, Garry, that it has come to a point where I am actually afraid to be alone? I thought I had plenty of what the world calls courage."

"You have!"

"I _had_. I don't know what's become of it--what has happened to me.... I don't want to tell you more than I have to----"

"Tell us as much as you think necessary," said Barres, watching her.

"Thank you.... Well, then, some years ago I earned the enmity of a man. And, through him, a European Government blacklisted me. It was a terrible thing. I did not fully appreciate what it meant at the time."

She turned to Westmore in her pretty, impulsive way: "This European Government, of which I speak, believes me to be the agent of another foreign government--believes that I betrayed its interests. This man whom I offended, to punish me and to cover his own treachery, furnished evidence which would have convicted me of treachery and espionage."

The excited colour began to dye her cheeks again; she stretched out one arm in appeal to Westmore:

"Please believe me! I am no spy. I never was. I was too young, too stupid, too innocent in such matters to know what this man was about--that he had very cleverly implicated me in this abhorrent matter. Do you believe me, Mr. Westmore?"

"Of course I do!" he said with a fervour not, perhaps, necessary. "If you'll be kind enough to point out that gentleman----"

"Wait, Jim," interposed Barres, nodding to Thessalie to proceed.

She had been looking at Westmore, apparently much interested in his ardour, but she came to herself when Barres interrupted, and sat silent again as though searching her mind concerning what further she might say. Slowly the forced smile curved her lips again. She said: