“Now as to your third contingency,” she went on, “I am not able to say what is the nature of the document, nor whom nor what nation it concerns.”
“You mean that you’re ignorant of its contents and its nature?” he asked.
She met his glance frankly. “I mean that I haven’t any idea of its contents or its purpose.”
He slowly tapped his cigarette against the swinging brass ash-receiver.
“Wouldn’t it be well, my dear Madame X, to lay your cards on the table—all your cards?”
“I’m perfectly willing, if you’ll do likewise,” she replied instantly.
He looked at her thoughtfully.
“Very well,” he returned. “Let me see your hand and you shall see mine.”
“This one?” she smiled, holding it up.
He leaned over and took the long, slim fingers in the tips of his own—and she let him.