"I have it here. Use a dozen of them. They can be snuffed as a powder, or it can be put in a drink. If you want more—see, I will put the bottle on this shelf—'way back. No one will see it."
"Don't you think I ought to write a note, something that will be sure to get him up here?"
"Yes—just a line or two—as if in haste."
There was a sound as if of tearing a sheet of note paper from a pad.
"Is that all right?"
"Yes. As soon as the market closes. There will be nothing done to-day. To-morrow's the day. To-night we must get him going and in the meantime a meeting will be held, the plan arranged at the Prince Henry to-night—and then the smash. Between them all, he won't know what has struck him."
"All right. You had better go out as you came in. It's better that no one up here should suspect anything."
The voices ceased.
What did it mean! Constance rose and sauntered around into the next room. It was empty, but when she looked hastily up on the shelf there was a bottle of white tablets and on a table a pad of note paper from which a sheet had been torn.
She picked up the bottle gingerly. Who had touched it? Her mind was working quickly. Somewhere she had read of finger prints and the subject had interested her because the system had been introduced in banks and she saw that it was going to become more and more important.