"But if it happens that I am staying here?"
"Please go! There—with my father—is a detective——"
"I know him well!" was the reply. Séverac Bablon's melodious voice was calm. He smiled serenely. "But, fortunately, he does not know me! My name, then, for the present, is Mr. Sanrack; and I have taken this risk—though believe me it is not so great as you deem it—because I have something more to say. I was interrupted by the arrival of Inspector Sheffield."
"He may come in at any moment!"
"Then, I shall go out! But first I wish to tell you that I consider it my duty to force your father's hand in regard to a large sum of money!"
Zoe's little foot tapped the floor nervously.
"How do you dare?" she said. "How do you dare to tell me such a thing?"
"I dare, because what I do is right and just," he resumed; "and because, although I know that its justice will be apparent to you, I am anxious to have your personal assurance upon that point."
"My assurance that I think you are right in robbing my father!"
"I could scarcely expect that; I certainly should not ask for it. But you know that despite enormous benefactions, the Jews as a race bear the stigma of cupidity and meanness. It is wholly undeserved. The sums annually devoted to charitable purposes, by such a family as the Elschilds—my very good friends—are truly stupendous. But the Elschilds do not seek the limelight. Mr. Rohscheimer, Baron Hague, Sir Leopold Jesson, Mr. Hohsmann—and your father, are celebrated only for their unscrupulous commercial methods in the formation of combines. They do not distribute their wealth. Is it not true?"