Clara was deeply impressed by this narration. She could see no flaw in it, no evidence of untruthfulness. But there was a touch of evasion in the conclusion, and she remarked with merciless coolness:
"You do not say that we are as far along as five days ago. You confine the lack of progress to me."
There was a hasty glance from the spy that looked like apprehension.
"Of course, I catch the significance of your words," he said; "you think I know more than I tell, that I instigated the abduction of Strobel."
"Tell me," she said, looking straight into his eyes, "why did you not wish to meet Billings?"
He hesitated, and the color rose slowly to his cheeks.
"No," he answered, "not now. I have said all I can for the present. I am still pursuing this matter, Miss Hilman, but I must put off further information. I would ask you to trust me to report faithfully to you but that it is such a farce for two persons like you and me to bandy words."
"It is a cruel farce," she exclaimed, rising indignantly; "you pretend to help me and you laboriously tell me things I already know."
She walked across the room, and her brain struggled for a plan in the confusion of impulses, hopes and fears. What might Paul accomplish? Would she not surely lose a possible point by dismissing the spy once and for all, and might she not some day gain much by keeping in some sort of communication with him? This was the policy she had determined upon, and she would adhere to it. So she turned and faced him. He had risen, waiting her word of dismissal or encouragement.
"I will give you one more opportunity to tell me the whole truth and make amends," she said sternly; "I believe what you have told me to-night. Next time I must have all, and nothing short of it. Will you come to-morrow?"