His tone nettled her. He talked as if he had some distant claim on her.

"Something came between?" she repeated slowly, mockingly. "That sounds
melodramatic indeed. What was it came between--a coach-and-four, or a
grand army?"

"Nothing so stately," he answered, piqued by her tone: "a filibuster and
his ragamuffins."

"Ragamufins would be appreciated by Monsieur Valmond's followers, spoken
at the four corners," she answered.

"Then I'll change it," he said: "a ragamuffin and his filibusters."

"The 'ragamuffin' always speaks of his enemies with courtesy, and the
filibusters love their leader," was her pointed rejoinder.

"At half a dollar a day," he answered sharply.

"They get that much from His Excellency, do they?" she asked in real
surprise. "That doesn't look like filibustering, does it?"

"'His Excellency!'" he retorted. "Why won't you look this matter
straight in the face? Napoleon or no Napoleon, the end of this thing
is ruin."

"Take care that you don't get lost in the debris," she said bitingly.

"I can take care of myself. I am sorry to have you mixed up in it."