“Do you mind telling me about her—anything, that is, you don’t object to telling?”
“I don’t object to telling you everything we know,” said Nicolai. “We are comrades. We have met a few times. As for her personality, you know that as well as we do. That is all.”
“All!” exclaimed Drexel in disappointment. But he saw that Nicolai was speaking the truth. The story he had heard the major-domo tell came back to his mind. “Then you do not know what her mission was?”
“No. We are only privates. We obey the orders that are given us.”
“Then she is something more than a private?”
Nicolai nodded.
Time ticked on. Drexel became restless with the suspense of waiting; then his first thought on entering the shabby room, that this was a strange place to meet such a woman, began to grow into a vague suspicion.
There was a little intermittent talk. More time dragged on. He grew more restless and suspicious. At length he rose and drew on his coat. Instinctively his hand slipped into one of the coat’s outside pockets and gripped the pistol there.
“I think I’ll walk around a bit,” he said.
“Better not,” advised the quiet voice of Nicolai. “You know the police are looking for you.”