"Well, did he kiss you or didn't he?"
Margaret sighed. "I will tell you that," she said wearily. "Yes, he did—he kissed my hand."
Sub-inspector Van Zyl sat up briskly. "I thought we 'd get something before we were done," he said, and smiled with a kind of malice at Ford. "You 'd like to apologize, I expect?"
Ford did not answer him; he was staring in mere amazement at Margaret's immovable profile.
"Is that true?" he demanded.
Margaret forced herself to look round and meet the wonder of his face.
"Oh, quite," she answered. "Quite true."
His eyes wavered before hers as though he were ashamed and abashed. He put an uncertain hand to his lips.
"I see," he said, very thoughtfully, and sat again upon the couch.
"Well, after that, what 's the sense of keeping anything back?" Van Zyl went on confidently. "You see what comes of standing out against the police? Now, what are your arrangements for meeting this Kafir? Where do you send to let him know he 's to come and see you?"