The darkness hid Domiloff’s face. His voice was under perfect control.
“I bear him no special grudge for that,” Domiloff said, “but it was only the beginning. He has done his very best to oppose us throughout. He is the King’s most intimate friend, he is our most dangerous enemy. His letters from here are influencing the whole European Press. In England they have created a sensation, and in Germany also. They have been translated into every language, and copied everywhere. The time has come when they must cease.”
She felt the significance of his words. She was not altogether unmoved under his close scrutiny.
“He is an Englishman,” she said, “and it is dangerous to interfere with Englishmen.”
“Nevertheless it must be done,” he declared. “To-night it has become a matter of urgency.”
“How so?”
“Because, not content with the mischief which he has already done, he must needs play the spy upon one or both of us. To-night he was at the Café Metropolitan and overheard some part of my conversation with your brother.”
A sudden colour flushed her cheeks. Her eyes were bright.
“He is a brave man,” she cried.
Domiloff shrugged his shoulders.