"Come naturally--quite so!" and Chauvenet twisted his mustache with an
air of immense satisfaction.

"But the genial art of assassination--there's a business that requires a
calculating hand, my dear Monsieur Chauvenet!"

Chauvenet's hand went again to his lip.

"To be sure!" he ejaculated with zest.

"But alone--alone one can do little. For larger operations one
requires--I should say--courageous associates. Now in my affairs--would
you believe me?--I am obliged to manage quite alone."

"How melancholy!" exclaimed Chauvenet.

"It is indeed very sad!" and Armitage sighed, tossed his cigarette into
the smoldering grate and bade Chauvenet a ceremonious good night.

"Ah, we shall meet again, I dare say!"

"The thought does credit to a generous nature!" responded Armitage, and
passed out into the house.




CHAPTER IX