“Take care,” she said. “You know I'll report every word.”

“Of course,” I said, not knowing that at all and groping for a quick hedge, “unless your best interests were conjoined with my own.”

Her eyebrows moved closer together, and tiny wrinkles appeared between them.

“I'm not sure what you're proposing.”

“I'm not proposing anything, yet,” I said. “I'm just being completely open and honest with you and telling you I don't know. I'm not positive I want to make a deal with Eric. After all...” I let the words trail off on purpose, for I had nothing to follow them with, though I felt I should.

“You've been offered an alternative?” She stood up suddenly, seizing her whistle. “Bleys! Of course!”

“Sit down,” I said, “and don't he ridiculous. Would I place myself in your hands this calmly, this readily, just to be dog meat because you happen to think of Bleys?”

She relaxed, maybe even sagged a little, then reseated herself.

“Possibly not,” she finally said, “but I know you're a gambler, and I know you're treacherous. If you came here to dispose of a partisan, don't even bother trying. I'm not that important. You should know that by now. Besides, I always thought you rather liked me.”

“I did, and I do,” I said, “and you have nothing to worry about, so don't. It's interesting, though, that you should mention Bleys.”

Bait, bait, bait! There was so much I wanted to know!

“Why? Has he approached you?”

“I'd rather not say,” I replied, hoping it would give me an edge of some kind, and now that I knew Bleys' gender: “If he had, I'd have answered him the same as I would Eric-'I'll think about it. '“

“Bleys,” she repeated, and Bleys, I said to myself inside my head, Bleys. I like you. I forget why, and I know there are reasons why I shouldn't-but I like you. I know it.