“Let me see.”
He drew out a wallet and held up a number of notes.
“Fifty,” he said, in a subdued voice, “when you point him out.”
For a long moment Zahara hesitated, then:
“Sixty,” she corrected him—“now! Then I will do it to-night—if you tell what happens.”
Exhibiting a sort of eager impatience the man displayed a bunch of official-looking documents.
“I give him these,” he explained, “and my work is done.”
“H'm,” said Zahara. “He must not know that it is I who have shown him to you. To-night he will be here at nine o'clock, and I shall dance. You understand?”
“Then,” said the Spaniard eagerly, “this is what you will do.”
And speaking close to her ear he rapidly outlined a plan; but presently she interrupted him.