"Will you broach the matter directly?"
"No; I don't think it would be wise to do that. If things are as I suspect, we have to deal with a dangerous lot. I'll find out all I can without letting them have any suspicion--that is to say, from Mrs. Arne and Semberry. As for Drabble, I intend to join him. I shall become an Anarchist."
"Become an Anarchist?" echoed Olive, turning round, the photographs in her hand.
"Yes; it is my only chance of gaining his confidence. I must do it if I am to get at the truth."
"But you will bring trouble upon yourself."
"Oh no," laughed Mallow, "I shall stop short of throwing bombs, I promise you."
"Oh, it is dangerous," said Mrs. Carson, sighing. "How can I thank you sufficiently for all the trouble you are taking--here are the photographs."
Laurence glanced at one. It represented Carson standing straight and stiff against a stone wall for all the world as if he were going to be shot. It was not a work of art, but the likeness was excellent. Mallow nodded as if he were well satisfied.
"It will serve our purpose capitally," he said, putting it in his pocket. "Mrs. Purcell should have no difficulty in saying if this is or is not the man she saw in Bombay. Well, Mrs. Carson," he added abruptly. "I must say good night."
"Good night. What time to-morrow do you leave?"