She paused, regarding him with a sombre and inscrutable face while he produced from his coat-pocket a fat envelope without endors.e.m.e.nt.
"This is yours."
The woman murmured blankly: "Mine?"
He said in a guarded voice: "Papers I found in the safe in your library, that night. I had to take them for use in event of need.
Now...they are useless. But you are unwise to keep such papers, Liane.
Good-bye."
The envelope was unsealed. Lifting the flap, the woman half withdrew the enclosure, recognised it at a glance, and crushed it in a convulsive grasp, while the blood, ebbing swiftly from her face, threw her rouge into livid relief. For an instant she seemed about to speak, then bowed her head in dumb acknowledgment, and left the room.
Lanyard nodded to Mr. Murray, who amiably closed the door, keeping himself on the outside of it.
Eve de Montalais was eyeing him with an indulgent and amused glance. As he turned to her, she shook her head slowly in mockery of reproof.
"That woman loves you, monsieur," she stated quietly.
He succeeded admirably in looking as if the thought was strange to him.
"One is sure madame must be mistaken."
"Ah, but I am not!" said Eve de Montalais. "Who should know better the signs that tell of woman"s love for you, my dear?"
THE END