“You see, I was specially interested in your feeling for Ireland because of the situation touched on in your record. That’s serious, isn’t it?”
“Serious to desperation.”
“But a great deal of it’s just surmise on your part, I suppose?”
“Surmise?” His voice was suddenly weary. “No, no, it’s the rotten truth. All the facts are there, even the names of the leaders in the plot.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
“I can be sure.” There was a grim certainty in his tone that left little room for doubt.
“You use spies?”
“Spies? You might call them that. There are three ring-leaders in the conspiracy; the youngest was my room-mate in college.”
“I see.” After a moment in which she sat quite still, clear-eyed and pensive, she asked, “Now that you have all the details of the plot, why don’t you crush it?”
“To do anything now would precipitate the bloodiest kind of civil war again. We must move with the greatest care; God help Ireland if wind of it reaches the other party. They’re straining at the leash like mad dogs already.”