"Well, you see, the fact is I did not quite understand the nature of your business—that is to say, I thought it was a printing business just like any other."
Light dawned upon me. The police had evidently been at work here. I was too new to the revolutionary movement to have foreseen all the difficulties which beset the path of the propagandist.
"And since Saturday night you have come to the conclusion that it is an unusual printing office?" I inquired somewhat derisively. I could still see in my mind's eye the benevolent smile and patronising condescension with which he had beamed on M'Dermott and me on the occasion of our first meeting.
"You are a sensible person, Miss Meredith," he said, with an almost appealing accent, "and you will, I am sure, agree with me that it would be impossible for me to have revolutionary papers printed on my premises. It would not be fair to my clients; it would interfere with my business success. Of course every one has a right to their opinions, but I had no idea that you were connected with any such party. In fact I had gone out of town, and intended staying away two or three days when yesterday afternoon I received this telegram," and he handed me the document. It was from Scotland Yard, and warned him to return at once as the police had something of importance to communicate.
"Of course I came back," continued the tremulous White. "At first I thought it must be all a mistake, but I was shown a copy of the Bomb, and told that that was what you intended printing. Now you must agree that this is not a suitable place for such an office."
"I cannot see," I replied with some warmth, "that it can make any difference to you what I print. I pay you your rent, and we are quits. Of course if you refuse to give me the keys of the shop I cannot force myself in, but I have reason to think that you will regret your extraordinary conduct."
"Is that a threat?" inquired White, growing visibly paler, and glancing nervously towards the door.
"No, it is only the expression of a personal opinion," I replied. At this moment the door opened, and M'Dermott appeared.
"Well, are you coming with the keys? We are getting tired of waiting," he inquired.
"This man," said I, pointing with scorn at the abject carriage-builder, "now refuses to let me the shop on the ground that he disapproves of revolutionary literature."