"Where, precisely, are your U-boats creeping into?" inquired John calmly.
"Into—into Portsmouth." She mouthed the name of the great harbour.
"You thought to outwit us, and we outwit you!"
John bowed. "I have only your word for it."
She paid no heed and went on. "So you see, Mr. Treves, what you get in wasting your time on me—a woman!"
His obstinate coolness maddened her, and in a wild gust of rage she crashed her fist on the table.
"You fool! You fool! You sheep's head!" she announced, elegantly. She paused a moment, breathing heavily, then sweeping round the table, snatched her coat from his arm and strode towards the door.
"There is no hurry, Mrs. Beecher Monmouth——"
She halted and gave him a glance that would have turned Parkson to stone.
"What do you mean?" she demanded.