"Yes, of course, of course. Just so!" Fred interrupted.
Storch laid his pipe aside and drained a half-filled glass of red wine standing beside his plate.
"I think I've turned a very neat trick," he said, smacking his lips in satisfaction. "It's almost like a Greek tragedy—Hilmer, his wife, and yours in one fell swoop, and at your hand. There is an artistic unity about this affair that has been lacking in some of my other triumphs."
Fred rose again, and this time he turned squarely on Storch as he asked:
"How long have you and Mrs. Hilmer been plotting this together?"
Storch's eyes widened in surprise. "You're getting keener every moment… Well, you've asked a fair question. I planted that maid in the house soon after I knew the story."
"After the fever set me to prattling?"
"Precisely."
Fred Starratt stood motionless for a moment, but presently he began to laugh.
Storch looked annoyed, then rather puzzled. Fred took the hint and fell silent. For the first time since his escape from Fairview he was experiencing the joy of alert and sharpened senses. He had ceased to drift. From this moment on he would be struggling. And a scarcely repressed joy rose within him.