"Oh! we are not the only people in the world who are clever," Pamela declared, with an unnatural little laugh. "The first man who took note of Sandy Graham's silly words as he rushed into Henry's was Baron Sunyea. I saw him stiffen as he listened. He even uttered a word of remonstrance. Japan in London heard. Japan in your sitting-room here, in ten days' time, knew everything there was to be known."
"I didn't bring Nikasti here for this," Fischer insisted.
"Perhaps not," Pamela conceded, "but if you're a good American, what are you doing at all with a Japanese secret agent?"
"If you trust me, you shall know," Fischer promised. "Listen to reason. Let us have finished with one affair at a time. You very nearly lost that formula to Japan. Hand over the pocketbook. You see how dangerous it is for it to remain in your possession. I'll keep my share of the bargain. I'll put my scheme before you. Come, be reasonable. See, here's the forged transfer."
He drew a paper from his pocket and spread it out upon the table. His long, hairy fingers were shaking with nervousness.
"Come, make it a deal," he persisted, "You can pay me the defalcations or not, as you choose. There is your brother's freedom and the honour of your name, in exchange for that pocketbook."
Pamela, after all her hesitation, seemed to make up her mind with startling suddenness. She thrust the pocketbook towards Fischer, took the transfer from his fingers and tore it into small pieces.
"I give in," she said. "This time you have scored. We will talk about the other matter tomorrow."
Fischer buttoned up the packet carefully in his breast pocket. His eyes glittered. He turned towards the door. On the threshold he looked around. He stretched out his hand towards Pamela.
"Believe me, you have done well," he assured her hoarsely. "I shall keep my word. I will set you in the path of great things."