Nick continued, amid continuing clicking:
“I have to-day made arrangements with a competent stenographer and will set to work upon the series of dramas we were discussing yesterday. You may expect a scenario of the first one early next week. I think you will prefer for a starter the sensational detective drama I mentioned to you, featuring the peerless American sleuth, Nick Carter. The story of the drama relates to the mysterious disappearance of a parish priest, who, in spite of his religious vows, falls desperately in love with a very wealthy and beautiful girl, who——”
The clicking suddenly stopped.
Kate Crandall’s deft hands had gone wrong. She had struck several wrong keys. She reached for an eraser, saying quickly:
“One moment, please.”
Nick saw that she was turning pale. Her arching dark brows had knit perceptibly.
“Certainty,” he said, suavely.
Kate erased the misprinted letters and readjusted the traveler. She then gazed steadily at the detective for a moment, as if fain to read his mind, and she then said tersely:
“Continue.”
Nick went on without a change of countenance, quite as if there had been no interruption.