"Of course. Any man of imagination is at pains to study every house he
enters. I have a map of the premises--house and grounds--here." He
indicated his forehead with a long forefinger.
"Quite right, too--and worth one's while. If rumor is to be believed,
you have ordinarily more than your labor for your pains. You have
taught me something already.... Ah, well!" she sighed, "I suppose I may
as well acknowledge my inferiority--as neophyte to hierophant. Master!"
She courtesied low. "I beg you proceed and let thy cheela profit
through observation!" And a small white hand gestured significantly
toward the collection of burglar's tools,--drills and chisels, skeleton
keys, putty, and all,--neatly displayed upon the rug before the massive
safe.
"You mean that you wish me to crack this safe for you?" he inquired,
with inward consternation.
"Not for me. Disappointment I admit is mine; but not for the loss I
sustain. In the presence of the master I am content to stand humbly to
one side, as befits one of my lowly state in--in the ranks of our
profession. I resign, I abdicate in your favor; claiming nothing by
right of priority."
"You are too generous," he mumbled, confused by her thinly veiled
ridicule.
"Not at all," she replied briskly. "I am entirely serious. My loss of
to-day will prove my gain, tomorrow. I look for incalculable benefit
through study of your methods. My own, I confess," with a contemptuous
toss of her head toward the burglar's kit, "are clumsy, antiquated, out
of date.... But then, I'm only an amateur."
"Oh, but a woman----" he began to apologize on her behalf.
"Oh, but a woman!" she rapped out smartly. "I wish you to understand
that this woman, at least, is no mean----" And she hesitated.
"Thief?" he supplied crudely.
"Yes, thief! We're two of a feather, at that."
"True enough.... But you were first in the field; I fail to see why I
should reap any reward for tardiness. The spoils must be yours."
It was a test: Maitland watched her keenly, fascinated by the subtlety
of the game.
"But I refuse, Mr. Anisty--positively refuse to go to work while you
stand aside and--and laugh."
Pride! He stared, openly amazed, at this bewilderingly feminine bundle
of inconsistencies. With each facet of her character discovered to him,
minute by minute, the study of her became to him the more engrossing.
He drew nearer, eyes speculative.
"I will agree," he said slowly, "to crack the safe, but upon
conditions."
She drew back imperceptibly, amused, but asserting her dignity. "Yes?"
she led him on, though in no accent of encouragement.
"Back there, in the river," he drawled deliberately, forcing the pace,
"I found you--beautiful."
She flushed, lip curling. "And, back there, in the river, I thought
you--a gentleman!"
"Although a burglar?"
"A gentleman for all that!"
"I promise you I mean no harm," he prefaced. "But don't you see how I
am putting myself in your power? Every moment you know me better, while
I have not yet even looked into your face with the light full upon it.
Honor among thieves, little woman!"
She chose to ignore the intimate note in his voice. "You're wasting
time," she hinted crisply.
"I am aware of that fact. Permit me to remind you that you are helping
me to waste it. I will not go ahead until I have seen your face. It is
simply an ordinary precaution."
"Oh, if it's a matter of business----"
"Self-preservation," he corrected with magnificent gravity.
She hesitated but a moment longer, then with a quick gesture removed
her mask. Maitland's breath came fast as he bent forward, peering into
her face; though he schooled his own features to an expression of
intent and inoffensive studiousness, he feared the loud thumping of his
heart would betray him. As he looked it became evident that the
witchery of moonlight had not served to exaggerate the sensitive, the
almost miniature, beauty of her. If anything, its charm was greater
there in the full glare of the electric chandelier, as she faced him,
giving him glance for glance, quite undismayed by the intentness of his
scrutiny.
In the clear light her eyes shone lustrous, pools of tawny flame; her
hair showed itself of a rich and luminous coppery hue, spun to
immeasurable fineness; a faint color burned in her cheeks, but in
contrast her forehead was as snow--the pure, white, close-grained skin
that is the heritage of red-headed women the world over, and their
chiefest charm as well; while her lips....
As for her lips, the most coherent statement to be extracted from Mr.
Maitland is to the effect that they were altogether desirable, from the
very first.
The hauteur of her pose, the sympathy and laughter that lurked in her
mouth, the manifest breeding in the delicate modeling of her nostrils,
and the firm, straight arch of her nose, the astonishing allurement of
her eyes, combined with their spirited womanliness: these, while they
completed the conquest of the young man, abashed him. He found himself
of a sudden endowed with a painful appreciation of his own
imperfections, the littleness of his ego, the inherent coarseness of
his masculine fiber, the poor futility of his ways, contrasted with her
perfections. He felt as if rebuked for some unwarrantable
presumption.... For he had looked into eyes that were windows of a
soul; and the soul was that of a child, unsullied and immaculate.
You may smile; but as for Maitland, he deemed it no laughing matter.
From that moment his perception was clear that, whatever she might
claim to be, however damning the circumstances in which she appeared to
him, there was no evil in her.
But what he did not know, and did not even guess, was that, from the
same instant, his being was in bondage to her will. So Love comes,
strangely masked.