spoke her manner was almost business-like.

"I was told nothing of this," she said. "Who is it? What do you want me
to do?"

Of all the sensations of that night, none has left a more unpleasant
odour in my memory than the manner of that woman in the chamber of
death. Her voice was incredibly hard. Her dull, basilisk eyes, seeking
in mine the answers to her questions, gave me an eerie sensation that
makes my blood run cold whenever I think of her.

Then suddenly her manner, arrogant, insolent, cruel, changed. She became
polite. She was obsequious. Of the two, the first manner became her
vastly better. She looked at me with a curious air, almost with
reverence, as it seemed to me. She said, in a purring voice:

"Ach, so! I did not understand. The gentleman must excuse me."

And she purred again:

"So!"

It was then I noticed that her eyes were fastened upon my chest. I
followed their direction.

They rested on the silver badge I had stuck in my braces.

I understood and held my peace. Silence was my only trump until I knew
how the land lay. If I left this woman alone, she would tell me all I
wanted to know.