So they sat in silence a moment. Then slowly she arose and moved to her
escritoire, drawing a sheet of paper toward her and beginning to write.
"Is there a telephone at the place?" enquired Mershone abruptly.

"Yes."

"Then telephone Cerise after I'm gone. That will make it doubly sure.
And give me the number, too, so I can jot it down. I may need it."

Diana quietly tore up the note.

"The telephone is better," she said. "Being in the dark, sir, I prefer
not to commit myself in writing."

"You're quite right, Di," he exclaimed, admiringly. "But for heaven's
sake don't forget to telephone Madame Cerise."

"I won't Charlie. And, see here, keep your precious plans to yourself,
now and always. I intend to know nothing of what you do."

"I'm merely the cats-paw, eh? Well, never mind. Is old Cerise to be
depended upon, do you think?"

"Why not?" replied the girl. "Cerise belongs to the Von Taers--body and
soul!"




CHAPTER XI