"Oh, there is no secret about it. Any surgeon could do it. I have
only to alter the shape of your nose a trifle, and make your forehead
rather higher and wider. A stain of some sort will do the rest."

"Yes," I said; "but what about the first part of the programme?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Child's play," he answered. "Merely a
question of paraffin injections and the X-rays."

He spoke with such careless confidence that for once it was impossible
to doubt his sincerity.

I lay back again and drew in a large exulting lungful of cigarette
smoke. I had suddenly realized that if McMurtrie's offer was genuine,
and he could really do what he promised, there were no longer any
difficulties in the way of my getting at George. The idea of meeting
him, and perhaps even speaking to him, without his being able to
recognize me filled me with a wicked satisfaction that no words can do
justice to.

I don't think I betrayed my emotion, however, for McMurtrie's keen
eyes were on me, and I was not in the least anxious to take him into
my confidence. I blew out the smoke in a grey cloud, and then, raising
myself on my elbow carefully flicked the ash off my cigarette.

"How am I to know that you will keep your promise?" I asked.

Savaroff made an angry movement, but before he could speak, McMurtrie
had broken in.