"Slowly! Slowly!" Loeb leaned forward and looked into Feuerstein's face. "You mustn't forget."
Feuerstein's eyes shifted rapidly as he said in a false voice: "She got a divorce years ago."
"M-m-m," said Loeb.
"Anyhow, she's away off in Russia."
"I don't want you to confess a crime you haven't come to me about," said Loeb, adding with peculiar emphasis: "Of course, if we KNEW you were still married to the Mrs. Feuerstein of seven years ago we couldn't take the present case. As it is—the best way is to bluff the old brewer. He doesn't want publicity; neither do you. But you know he doesn't, and he doesn't know that you love quiet."
"Ganser treated me infamously. He must sweat for it. I'm nothing if not a good hater."
"No doubt," said Loeb dryly. "And you have rights which the law safeguards."
"What shall I do?"
"Leave that to us. How much do you want—how much damages?"
"He ought to pay at least twenty-five thousand."