A million dollars for the Serbian cause! The newspapers came out with the news in bold head-lines, and interest in Danilo and his fiancée grew keen again. It seemed incredible that a sane person could have given a million dollars to any cause and withhold his name! It was a method of procedure that was neither modern nor business-like nor sound, and after the fury and fun of speculation had died the daily press grew a bit peevish at their balked opportunity to exploit the donor. And not only had a million dollars been left like a love-child at the door-step of charity, but there had been no provision made for the manner of its disbursement. Dr. George Danilo was to have absolute and discretionary power in spending this huge sum, and nothing further appeared to be suggested or demanded.
Only one person ventured to hint to Claire Robson that they were in possession of the secret, and this one person was Nellie Holmes.
"You can't fool me, Robson!" Nellie said, searching Claire with her shrewd, kindly eyes. "I know who slipped that million dollars into the poor-box. It was friend Stillman. You don't have to tell me! And it ain't because he cares a whoop about Serbia or Dr. George Danilo, Esquire, either."
Claire paled and then flushed. "Really, Nell, you mustn't! That isn't fair to...."
"Fair nothing! Danilo must have two eyes and a nose, and if...."
Claire cut her short with a quick gesture. "You don't understand. Danilo doesn't know. I mean, I never have told him that ... that I even knew Ned Stillman."
A low whistle escaped Nellie Holmes. "My God! Robson, but you were a fool!"
"I know, but I mean to soon. As soon as I...."
"Look here, Robson, it's too late now! You'll just have to take a chance. There are some things that cold storage improves, but a secret like that ain't one of them. Now, with Billy it would be different. He'd take my word because he knows that there are some things I wouldn't be mean enough to lie about. But your friend ... well, he's in love up to his eyes. And a man like that is dangerous. It wouldn't take much to bring him up to boiling-point. And you'd better not turn on the blue-flame at this stage of the game."
But Claire was determined that she would get free of this figurative blood-clot which was paralyzing her will, and that night when Danilo came home she made up her mind to speak out. It was one of the nights when Danilo had denied all other demands, so that he might have dinner with Claire, and after the coffee she settled back in her seat and said: