He reached upward and buttoned his overcoat by twisting the buttons with his finger. He lifted the surgical bag and turned toward the candle.
“When you explain everything,â€� he said seriously, “we’ll be pals again. As it is now—you are too close to Scotland Yard and the hounds to suit me. You knew when I was coming out of—that place. You knew I was with Sir Richard in London. You knew I was bound for Holland. You got here almost as soon as I did. You left a mighty nice little house in the West End. Who paid for that house? Who bought you that motor? You say, ‘Be pals,’ but you are not the Saidee Isaacs I used to know. Come on! We’re going out of this trap. The police may hammer on the street door any minute. Dutch Gus ripped the big box in the embassy wide open. He made more ‘rumble’ than an old-time German Prince plundering a French chateau.â€�
Fay stooped and pinched the candle’s wick with his fingers.
He backed across the floor and found that she had barred the way to the door. He could see her face from the light that sifted in through the curtain.
“Let’s go,� he said as her breath fanned his cheek. “Open the door, Saidee.�
“Wait.�
He felt some pity for her at that instant. The lines about her mouth had softened perceptibly. He had heard that a man who knows little or nothing about a woman—idealizes her.
“What’s the matter?� he asked pityingly. “Are you going to cave in and cry on account of the cipher-key? I’d give it to you, Saidee, but there is still danger.�
“It isn’t that,â€� she said as she twisted the knob and peered out into the hall. “I wanted to see if you were really in earnest about taking it to Sir Richard. I don’t want you to take it—anywhere else—Germany, for instance.â€�
“Never,� whispered Fay as he seized her arm and guided her through the hallway.