Steppe turned to the Greek. "You had better keep it here," he said, and then: "Will it be ready today? I want to get those Brakpan letters out of the way. I needn't tell you, Sault, that the code word must be known only to us three, huh? I don't mind your knowing—but, you, Moropulos! You have got to cut out absinthe—d'ye hear? Cut it out—right out!" His growl became a roar that shook the room and Moropulos quailed.
"It is cut out," he said sulkily. "I am confining my boozing to the 'Parthenon'. I've got to have some amusement."
"You have it, if all I hear is true," said Steppe grimly. "Give Sault a hundred, Moropulos. It is worth it. What do you do with your money, Sault? You don't spend it on fine clothes, huh?"
"He goes about doing good," said Moropulos, with a good-natured sneer. "I met him in Kensington Gardens the other day, wheeling an interesting invalid. Who was she, Sault?"
"My landlady's daughter," replied the other shortly.
"No business of yours, anyhow," growled Steppe. "You've met Miss Merville, huh? Nice lady?"
"Yes, a very nice lady," said Sault steadily. He pushed back his long gray hair from his forehead.
"Pretty, huh?"
Sault nodded and was glad when his employer had departed.
"Steppe is gone on that girl," said Moropulos. "He'd have brained you, if you had said she wasn't pretty!"