Somehow or other, she was conscious of a thrill of excitement which she had never before experienced, even when she had sat back in her corner of the railway carriage, watching for the frontier, knowing that the wires were busy with her name, and that men who knew no mercy were on her track.
"If the servants should hear me ?" she faltered.
"You say only 'I await the Prince'," La Belle Nita murmured.

"That key never leaves his own person save for one in great favour.

They will believe that he gave it to you.

You will be unmolested." A queer sensation suddenly assailed Maggie.

She felt extraordinarily primitive, ridiculously feminine.