"I will ask the authorities to step in and--"
"No! You are to do nothing of the kind. The authorities would never find me if they came here to search." (It was hard for him to smile at that!) "It must be some other way. If I could steal out of the house, --but that is impossible," she broke off with a catch in her voice.
"Suppose that I were to steal INTO the house," he said, a reckless light in his eyes.
"Oh, you could never succeed!"
"Well, I could try, couldn't I?" There was nothing funny in the remark but they both leaned back and laughed heartily. "Leave it to me. I once got into and out of a Morrocan harem,--but that story may wait. Tell me, where--"
"The place is guarded day and night. The stealthiest burglar in the world could not come within a stone's throw of the house."
"By Jove! Those two men night before last were trying to--" He said no more, but turned his head so that the others could not see the hard look that settled in his eyes. "If it's as bad as all that, we cannot afford to make any slips. You think you are in no immediate peril?"
"I am in no peril at all unless I bring it upon myself," she said, significantly.
"Then a delay of a day or so will not matter," he said, frowning. "Leave it to me. I will find a way."
"Be careful!" De Soto came lounging up behind them. She went on speaking, changing the subject so abruptly and so adroitly that for a moment Barnes was at a loss. "But if she could obtain all those luxuries without using a penny of his money, what right had he to object? Surely a wife may do as she pleases with her own money."
"He was trying to break her of selfishness," said Barnes, suddenly inspired. "The difference between men and women in the matter of luxuries lies in the fact that one is selfish and the other is not. A man slaves all the year round to provide luxuries for his wife. The wife comes into a nice little fortune of her own, and what does she proceed to do with it? Squander it on her husband? Not much! She sets out immediately to prove to the world that he is a miser, a skinflint who never gave her more than the bare necessities of life. The chap I was speaking of--I beg pardon, Mr. De Soto."
"Forgive me for interrupting, but I am under command from royal headquarters. Peter, the king of chauffeurs, sends in word that the car is in an amiable mood and champing to be off. So seldom is it in a good-humour that he--"