Then they paused, for motionless against the west wall, between the closet door and the corner, stood Pobloff.

His arms were folded, and he was laughing a little.
Frank drew nearer Keenan, instinctively, wondering what the next movement would be.
It was Pobloff's voice that first broke the silence.
"This woman lies," he said, in his suavely scoffing baritone.

"This woman----" "Why don't you say something--why don't you do something!" cried Frank, hysterically, turning to Keenan.
"Ring the bell!" commanded Keenan.
"It's useless--the wires are cut," she panted.

She could see that, above and beyond all his craftiness, his latent Irish fighting-blood was aroused.
"Then, by God, I'll put him out myself.

If there's any fight between him and me "-- he turned on Pobloff--"we won't drag a woman into it!" The tall, gaunt Russian against the wall was no longer laughing.
"Pardon me," he said, advancing a step.