"I sha'n't hint at all. And I've come here to-night expressly to tell you, first, that I mean the Ellises to know about Gull Island. About Greta von Schwarzenberg's connection with it and with the man we found there."
There was silence in the room.
"I dare say you are wondering why, in the face of the exigency, I've put it off?"
Taylor had stopped smoking, but he said nothing.
"If I'd told her what I found Carl Pforzheim up to on Gull Island, she'd have to know what became of Carl. Well, I'm now going to tell her."
"You can't do that!" Taylor had come to life. He leaned forward, blinking his white lashes as if a cinder had blown in his eye.
"Why can't I?"
"For one thing, telling the Ellises would be as good as giving Schwarzenberg the key to the whole Gull Island business."
"Well, why not? Do her good. Put the fear of God into her, perhaps. And she can't spoil a game that's over and ended."
Taylor laid down his cigar.