"You would hardly have invited me to this interview else," Van Zwieten said cunningly. "You have something you want from me. Well, I will give it in exchange for my safety--and that includes, of course, your silence."
"It is clever of you to put it that way," responded the widow, coolly. "It so happens that you are right. I intend to make a bargain with you."
"Always provided that I agree."
"Of course," said she, airily; "but in this case I really think you will agree."
"I am not so sure of that." Van Zwieten narrowed his eyes and blinked wickedly. "You forget that I also know something."
"For that reason I asked you here. Let me advise you not to pit yourself against me, my good man, or you may get the worst of it. A word from me and you would be kicking your heels in jail this very night."
"Probably." Van Zwieten had too much to gain to notice her threat. "But you will never say that word."
"You can't be quite sure of that yet. Well, let us get to business. I am not anxious to spend any more time in your company than is necessary."
"I assure you the feeling is mutual. May I ask how you found my rooms in Westminster?"
"I think you know that very well after the visitor you received last night. I was told about them and you by Mr. Wilfred Burton. He knew long ago that you were a spy, and he has been watching you for many months."