"Delighted," said Winn, and the whole party moved off slowly down the terrace.
"MISS GRAHAME BURIED HER FACE IN HER HANDS—SHE WAS CRYING."
As soon as they were out of earshot, the Count got up leisurely from his seat. Producing his case, he lighted a cigarette. He puffed at it reflectively.
"Twenty thousand pounds," he said, softly; "yes, Vorenbeck would certainly give that for the Vaarg Valley plans—" he paused—"and it happens that I am a poor man."
He moved across the room towards a heavily-curtained doorway.
"But how," he muttered, "how is it to be done?"
He pulled the drapery aside, then started back in surprise. Miss Grahame was standing in the space between the curtains and the door. In one hand she was holding a book.
He looked at her suspiciously. He noticed that the door was closed behind her. How long had she been there? What had she heard?