In the meantime, kindly pardon me." His form vanished through the curtains and she could hear him ascending the steps.

To her ears there came a short colloquy between the detective and the servant, but the words were indistinct and she was unable to gather their meaning.

Huddled in the chair, she waited while the minutes dragged wearily, until at the end of three-quarters of an hour the detective's welcome footsteps were heard on the stairs.
Britz entered the room carrying a huge pile of papers which he deposited on a chair.

From the top of the pile he took a letter, and, advancing toward her, asked: "Is this the note ?" At sight of the letter her exhaustion vanished and she held out a trembling hand.
"It isn't that I don't trust you," said Britz, withdrawing the missive, "but under the circumstances I prefer to retain possession of it." It required no formal acknowledgment from her to assure him that he held the right note.

Her face, her eyes, her very aspect proclaimed her anxiety concerning it.