There is no mistaking it.
"Oh, I bear no ill will," he said.
"I do," answered Steinmetz bluntly.

"Who stole the papers from Thors ?" "Sydney Bamborough." "Good God in heaven! Is that true ?" "Yes, my friend." Steinmetz passed his broad hand over his forehead as if dazed.
"And who sold them ?" he asked.
"His wife." Count Lanovitch was looking at the burner of the lamp.

There was a peculiar crushed look about the man, as if he had reached the end of his life, and was lying like a ship, hopelessly disabled in smooth water, where nothing could affect him more.
Steinmetz scratched his forehead with one finger, reflectively.
"Vassili bought them," he said; "I can guess that." "You guess right," returned Lanovitch quietly.
Steinmetz sat down.

He looked round as if wondering whether the room was very hot.

Then with a large handkerchief he wiped his brow.
"You have surprised me," he admitted.