"You can send the checks," he told her. "Be sure that you draw
them, as usual, upon the Credit Lyonaise and in the name you know
of. Say to Lebonaitre of Paris that you consider his last reports
faulty. No mention was made of Monsieur C's visit to the Russian
Embassy, or of the supper party given to the Baron von Erlstein by
a certain Russian gentleman. Warn him, if you please, that reports
with such omissions are useless to me."

She wrote a few words in her book.

"You made a note of that?"

She raised her head.

"I do not make mistakes," she said.

His eyebrows were drawn together. This was his work, he told
himself, this magnificent physical subjection. Yet his
inability to stir her sometimes maddened him.

"You know who is in this house?" he asked. "You know the name of
my unknown guest?"

"I know nothing," she replied. "His presence does not interest me."

"Supposing I desire you to know?" he persisted, leaning a little
forward. "Supposing I tell you that it is your duty to know?"

"Then," she said, "I should tell you that I believe him to be the
special envoy from New York to The Hague, or whatever place on the