H. Bedford-Jones

“ Shinski looked cheerful. “There are difficulties, of course. The chief one is getting away without trouble; to effect that, we must manage the Ivanoff woman, let her smooth away every rocky spot, work hard for us! We must have a go-between, some one she will trust—one of the old aristocrats who will sell his soul for our money! The woman must be made to realize that the Romanoffs are beyond rescue, but that others need her help. She will thus get the millionaires some value for their money.” ”

“ We are traitors to our ideals, but—”
“No but’s!” she intervened crisply. “As for me, I want no more revolution. I have worked twenty years in its cause, and I have seen it succeed, only to fail in a spasm of blood and ruin. I am sick of it! We shall reach Mexico and be rich—that is enough for me. In course of time we shall get into the United States; you and I can do so at any time, being citizens. You have not discovered what the Ivanoff woman is planning?”
SHINSKI gave her a caustic glance. “Since you have abandoned the cause, Marie, why not call her the Princess Irene?” ”

“ One would have put her age at thirty, her experience and ability at fifty. Yet there was nothing hard or harsh in her features. A mass of bronze hair lowered above her brow; her voice was rich and deep, an instrument entirely responsive to her wishes. ”