De Chauxville looked up coolly. He saw his advantage.
“Hence your sudden flow of communicativeness?” he said.
Vassili nodded.
“You cannot find out for yourself, so you seek my help?” went on the Frenchman.
Again the Russian nodded his head.
“And your price?” said De Chauxville, drawing in his feet and leaning forward, apparently to study the pattern of the carpet. The action concealed his face. He was saving Etta, and he was ashamed of himself.
“When you have the information you may name your own price,” said the Russian coldly.
There was a long silence. Before speaking De Chauxville turned and took a glass of liqueur from the table. His hand was not quite steady. He raised the glass quickly and emptied it. Then he rose and looked at his watch. The silence was a compact.
“When the lady dined with you in Paris, did she recognize you?” he asked.
“Yes; but she did not know that I recognized her.”