It was Pobloff's voice that first broke the silence.
"This woman lies," he said, in his suavely scoffing baritone. "This woman——"
"Why don't you say something—why don't you do something!" cried Frank, hysterically, turning to Keenan.
"Ring the bell!" commanded Keenan.
"It's useless—the wires are cut," she panted. She could see that, above and beyond all his craftiness, his latent Irish fighting-blood was aroused.
"Then, by God, I'll put him out myself. If there's any fight between him and me "—he turned on Pobloff—"we won't drag a woman into it!"
The tall, gaunt Russian against the wall was no longer laughing.
"Pardon me," he said, advancing a step. "This woman has in her possession a packet of papers—of personal and private papers, which concern neither you nor her!"
"But what if it does concern me?" demanded Keenan.
"The gentleman is talking nonsense," said Pobloff, unperturbed. Yet he leaned forward and studied him more closely, through the half-light, studied him as the deliberating terrier might study the captured rat that had dared to bite back at him. "This woman, I repeat, has certain papers about her!"