I do not often drink wine in the morning, but--" He broke off in the middle of his sentence.

The glass which Felix had been in the act of raising to his lips lay shattered upon the floor, and a little stream of wine trickled across the carpet.

Felix himself seemed scarcely conscious of the disaster.

His cheeks were white, and he leaned across the table towards Mr.Sabin.
"What name did you say--what name ?" Mr.Sabin referred again to the letter which he held in his hand.
"Brott!" he repeated.

"He is Home Secretary, I believe." "What do you know about him ?" "Nothing," Mr.Sabin answered.