He has no will of his own."
Venetia gave an irrepressible gesture of pain.
"True; I forgot. Well, go and send him to me. My brother must be taken
into his confidence, whatever that confidence reveals. I will tell him
so. Go and send him to me; it is the last chance."
Cigarette gave no movement of assent; all the jealous rage in her flared
up afresh to stifle the noble and unselfish instincts under which she
had been led during the later moments. A coarse and impudent scoff rose
to her tongue, but it remained unuttered; she could not speak it under
that glance, which held the evil in her in subjection, and compelled her
reluctant reverence against her will.
"Tell him to come here to me," repeated Venetia, with the calm decision
of one to whom any possibility of false interpretation of her motives
never occurred, and who was habituated to the free action that
accompanied an unassailable rank. "My brother must know what I know.
I shall be alone, and he can make his way hither, without doubt,
unobserved. Go and say this to him. You are his loyal little friend and
comrade."
"If I be, I do not see why I am to turn your lackey, Madame," said
Cigarette bitterly. "If you want him, you can send for him by other
messengers!"
Venetia Corona looked at her steadfastly, with a certain contempt in the
look.
"Then your pleading for him was all insincere? Let the matter drop,
and be good enough to leave my presence, which, you will remember, you
entered unsummoned and undesired.
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