Zoya obeyed, but the pressure of her fingers and the look she gave him advised him of her preferences.
"You act like a spoiled child, my great bear," she said to the German, with a laugh. "I was merely telling Philippe of Georg Senf and the Committee."
"Philippe!" he growled. "Already----"
She said something to him and as Rowland got in behind them he drove off again. But it was easy to see how the wind sat in that quarter.
Rowland was obliged to admit that the woman distilled a kind of subtle poison. There was a time.... But by the bloody beard of von Tirpitz--not now! Her beauty passed him by. It was not for him, for he was now measuring loveliness by other standards. He would play the game, must play it, wherever it led, even with Zoya, but he found himself hoping that it would not lead too far. He had reason to doubt her sincerity and had guessed the inspiration for this sudden affection upon the part of Madame Rochal. She had long lived upon admiration and received it of Rowland as a right, but more than this, she loved power, and more even than power, the money that brought it. Max Liederman was a horrible example of the effectiveness of her art, for it was plainly to be seen that he was infatuated and was now even jealous of Rowland. It wouldn't do to stir up Liederman, or to blow cold with Zoya, for he needed them both and meant to use them to the best of his bent, for after all was not his captive Princess awaiting him yonder, somewhere in the blue haze beyond the plain, and how could he hope to succeed in finding her without the help of Liederman?
They had made good time and by early afternoon had passed Ulm on the way to Augsburg. After dinner Liederman's spirits rose and lighting a big black cigar, he invited Rowland into the seat beside him, while Zoya Rochal leaned over their shoulders and joined in the conversation.
"Herr Rowland, you have not yet explained entirely to my satisfaction how you happened to be inside the vault. Khodkine surprised you there with Fräulein Korasov, nicht wahr?"
Rowland told him the truth.
"I understand," said Liederman when he had finished. "And what were you going to do with the money?"
"I don't know. Fräulein Korasov had planned for that."