"Mr. Cavanagh," she said, very calmly and deliberately, "there is only one way now to end all this trouble. I come from the man who can return the slipper to where it belongs; but he wants his price!"
Her quiet speech served completely to restore my mental balance, and I noted with admiration that her words were so chosen as to commit her in no way. She knew quite well that thus far she might appear in the matter with impunity, and she clearly was determined to say nothing that could imperil her.
"Will you please come in?" I said quietly — and stood aside to admit her.
Exhibiting wonderful composure, she entered — and there, in the badly lighted hallway came face to face with my other visitor!
It was a situation so dramatic as to seem unreal.
Away from that tall figure retreated the girl with the violet eyes — and away — until she stood with her back to the wall. Even in the gloom I could see that her composure was deserting her; her beautiful face was pallid.
"Oh, God!" she whispered, all but inaudible—"You!"
Hassan, grasping the black rod in his hand, signed to her to enter the study. She stood quite near to me, with her eyes fixed upon him. I bent closer to her.
"My revolver — in left-hand table drawer," I breathed in her ear. "Get it. He is watching me!"
I could not tell if my words had been understood, for, never taking her gaze from the Sheikh of the Assassins, she sidled into the study. I followed her; and Hassan came last of all. Just within the doorway he stood, confronting us.