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92 put you up to it. She wanted to save me from a hideous life of honesty."

Ivan laughed, then shot me a curious look. "Did you think that I'd give them back?" he asked. "I was sure of it," I answered.

His face cleared, then clouded again. "I'll have a bad time with Léontine," he said, "and worse with Chu-Chu. But Chu-Chu can go to the devil. I've had nearly enough of Chu-Chu. He wanted to go after the other string—Mrs. Cuttynge's. But I flatly forbade that. I knew that Chu-Chu would never go out of the house without killing somebody. An unusual man, Mr. Clamart. He is purely criminal, with absolutely no saving grace of soul. He would rather kill than not. It is a pity, because he is the most able operator that I have ever known. But between. you and me, I distrust Chu-Chu. There was a job I worked up some time ago and Chu-Chu carried it off brilliantly, but I have since had reason to suspect that he held back some of the loot. If I could be sure of this, Chu-Chu would never get an other piece of work from me. Look here, Mr. Clamart, have you absolutely decided to quit the field? I've got a big thing for next week. Is it true that you are no longer one of us?"

"True as gospel," said I.

"That's subject to error. What is the matter? In love with Miss Dalghren?"

"No. We don't even get on well. It's merely that I have passed my word."

His face clouded. "It's a pity," said he. "You and I could do big things together. But perhaps