Constance was thinking, as she smiled to herself, of the money, her share, which she had hidden.

There was not a scrap of tangible evidence against her, except what Santos had carried with him in the filibustering expedition already off from New Orleans.
Her word would stand against that of all of the victims combined before any jury that could be empaneled.
"You thought I needed a warning," she cried, facing Drummond with eyes that flashed scorn at the skulking figure of Gordon behind him.

"But the next time you employ a stool-pigeon to make love," she added, "reckon in that thing you detectives scorn--a woman's intuition.".