"Italian or Pole?" asked the other.
"Pole," replied Poltavo readily.
"Well, as I was saying," the editor went on, "we on this paper are very anxious to secure news of society doings. If they are printable, we print them; if they are not printable"—he paused—"we do not print them. But," he raised a warning forefinger, "the fact that particulars of disgraceful happenings are not fit for publication must not induce you to cast such stories into the wastepaper basket. We keep a record of such matters for our own private amusement." He said this latter airily, but Poltavo was not deceived.
Again there was a long silence whilst the man at the table ruminated.
"Where do you live?" he asked.
"On the fourth floor of a small house in Bloomsbury," replied Poltavo.
The veiled figure nodded.
"When did you come to this country?"
"Six months ago."
"Why?"