to further the cause of Germany at the expense of the country in which
they live, to which they belong?"

Norgate picked up his hat.

"I expect you to believe nothing, Mr. Tyritt," he said drily. "Sorry I
troubled you."

"Not at all," Mr. Tyritt protested, the slight irritation passing from
his manner. "Such a visit as yours is an agreeable break in my routine
work. I feel as though I might be a character in a great modern romance.
The names of your amateur criminals are still tingling in my memory."

Norgate turned back from the door.

"Remember them, if you can, Mr. Tyritt," he advised, "You may have cause
to, some day."




CHAPTER VII


Norgate sat, the following afternoon, upon the leather-stuffed fender of
a fashionable mixed bridge club in the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square,
exchanging greetings with such of the members as were disposed to find
time for social amenities. A smartly-dressed woman of dark complexion and
slightly foreign appearance, who had just cut out of a rubber, came over
and seated herself by his side. She took a cigarette from her case and