Fenger seemed scarcely to see it. He had plunged at once
into talk of the European trip. Fanny gave him every
detail, omitting nothing. She repeated all that her
letters and cables had told. Fenger was more excited than
she had ever seen him. He questioned, cross-questioned,
criticized, probed, exacted an account of every
conversation. Usually it was not method that interested
him, but results. Fanny, having accomplished the thing she
had set out to do, had lost interest in it now. The actual
millions so glibly bandied in the Haynes-Cooper plant had
never thrilled her. The methods by which they were made
possible had.

Ella had been listening with the shrewd comprehension of one
who admires the superior art of a fellow craftsman.

"I'll say this, Mr. Fenger. If I could make you look like
that, by going to Europe and putting it over those foreign
boys, I'd feel I'd earned a year's salary right there, and
quit. Not to speak of the cross-examination you're putting
her through."

Fenger laughed, a little self-consciously. "It's just that
I want to be sure it's real. I needn't tell you how
important this trick is that Miss Brandeis has just turned."
He turned to Fanny, with a boyish laugh. "Now don't pose.
You know you can't be as bored as you look."

"Anyway," put in Ella, briskly, "I move that the witness
step down. She may not be bored, but she certainly must be