Looking at her as he approached, he was conscious that there was
something more than rage in his heart against her for her duplicity;
there was a gnawing disappointment and regret. It was as though he was
losing something he valued. But he put this emotion away from him as he
faced her.
"You're damn slick," he said; "slicker than I thought you was. But I
ain't lettin' you think that you're stringin' me like you thought you
was." He put vicious and significant emphasis on the word, and when he
saw her start he knew she divined that he had overheard the conversation
between her and Taggart.
Her face flushed. "You were listening, then," she said with cold
contempt.
"I ain't ashamed of it, either," he shot back. "When a man's dealin'
with crooks like--" He hesitated, and then gave a venomous accent to the
words--"like you an' Taggart, he can't be over-scrupulous. I was sure
listenin'. I heard Taggart ask you if you was still stringin' me. If it
hadn't been for that new pup which I just brought Bob I'd have done what
I was goin'--"
He stopped talking and looked sharply at her, for a change had come over
her. In her eyes was that expression of conscious advantage which he had
noticed many times before. She seemed to be making a great effort to
suppress some emotion, and was succeeding, too, for when she spoke her
voice was low and well controlled.
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