"And Mr. Guild? Was he—useful?"
Von Reiter gazed at the girl thoughtfully. One elbow rested on the table corner, the clenched fist supporting his chin. In the other hand he continued to crumple his gloves between lean, powerful, immaculate fingers.
"Karen," he said, "did you bring with you whatever papers you happened to possess at the time?"
After a moment the girl answered in a low voice: "No."
"Did you destroy them?"
"No."
"What became of them?" he insisted. A mottled flush gathered on his cheek-bones; after a few seconds the carefully scrubbed features of the man grew pink.
"What papers had you?" he asked.
She looked up at him in silence and a deeper colour stained his face so that in contrast his pale mustache, en croc, and his clipped hair appeared almost white.