Layton stared at her in astonishment.
"What possible connection can that have with the case?" he exclaimed.
"I don't know," she said again. "I've tried to think."
"The French Embassy," he mused. "That is strange...."
He checked himself, and looked at his watch.
"You time is nearly up," he said. "Listen to me carefully. There is one very important thing that I want you to understand. Whatever may develop in the meantime, I intend to prepare for the worst."
He kept her silent with a firm gesture.
"My work must go on. No matter what happens to me, my work must go on. And it must be carried on as I have begun it, by some one who has worked with me, and understands my objects—by some one who is human, and unlimited by sect or creed. I don't want to make people religious—it would spoil most of them. I want to make them healthy and happy. I would rather they were clean pagans than unclean Christians. No soul is saved or lost because it happens to take a certain view of the Mysteries of God. It is the bodies I care for—the bodies I want to build. Humanity should be a song of thanksgiving, not a prayer for alleviation."
The fires kindled again. His face was lit up.
"You must continue my work. If I should have to leave it ... you will find everything yours. There is over a million. Use it as I have taught you. Use it to help children to grow into men and women, and men and women to grow into old men and women. Use it to help human beings against the cruelties they inflict on each other—and animals against the cruelties inflicted on them. Promise me that if the worst happens, you will go on where I leave off."