"I hope I never disappoint you," he said ambiguously. "Now, about your husband—"
"Oh, yes. Of course." Her pronunciation of the last word was a caress. "Well, he uses a lot of iridium. I don't know much about his business — I think business is so dull, don't you? — but I know he uses it. So does Mr Linnet. Well, last night we had dinner with Mr Linnet, and — well, I had to powder my nose."
"Not really? Even you?"
"Yes," said Mrs Ourley vaguely. "Well, when I came back, I just couldn't help hearing what Milton — that's my husband, Milton — and Mr Linnet were talking about."
"Of course not."
"Well, Mr Linnet was saying: 1 don't know what to do. I've got to have iridium to fulfil my contracts, and the market's cornered. I don't like any part of it, but they've got me over a barrel.' Then Milton said: I'll say they have. But you'll buy it and pay through the nose, just like me. You can't afford to do anything else.' And Mr Linnet said: 'I still don't like it.' Then I had to go into the room because the butler came out into the hall, so I couldn't just stand there, and of course they stopped talking about it. But I can tell you it was a terrible shock to me."
"Naturally," Simon agreed sympathetically.
"I mean, if Milton and Mr Linnet are buying illegal iridium, that makes them almost criminals themselves, doesn't it?"
Simon studied her seriously for a moment.
"Do you really want your husband to go to jail?" he asked bluntly.