"You find it strange?" he asked Geoffrey.
"Strange and thrilling," Geoffrey replied. "It appeals to the imagination. Some tragedy may be at the other end of that innocent-looking thread."
"There may be; there would be if I were not here. We are dealing with a foe whose cunning and audacity know no bounds. You see I have been among the foe and know something of their dealings."
A passionate anger rose up in Geoffrey as he watched the gliding thread.
"Then why not drop upon them?" he cried. "Why not produce your proofs and hand the miscreants over to the police?"
"What good would that do?" Tchigorsky replied. "Could we prove that the foe had had a direct hand in the tragedies of the past? Could we demonstrate to the satisfaction of a jury that Mrs. May and her confederates were responsible for those poisoned flowers or the bees? And if we get them out of the way there are others behind them. No, no; they must be taught a lesson; they must know that we are all-powerful. And they must feel the weight of our hands. Then the painful family scandal——"
"You are going too far," Ralph interrupted warningly.
Tchigorsky checked himself after a glance at Geoffrey.
"I am not to be told everything," he said. "Why?"