There was no time to make a copy.

And I stole the real treaty from Raoul du Laurier, to whom I am engaged--whom I adore, Ivor, as I didn't know it was in me to adore any man.

You know his name, perhaps--that he's Under Secretary in the Foreign Office, here in Paris.
Oh, I can read in your eyes what you're thinking of me, now.

You can't think worse of me than I think of myself.

Yet I did the thing for Raoul's sake.