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Updated: June 21, 2025
When he had finished, there was a brief silence. "Sounds rather like a page out of a novel, doesn't it, Mr. Norgate?" the police official remarked at last. "It may," Norgate assented drily. "I can't help what it sounds like. It happens to be the exact truth." "I do not for a moment doubt it," the other declared politely.
"The forts of Liege and Namur," Norgate replied, "and Antwerp. I know nothing more about it than I gathered from an article which I read not long ago in a magazine. I had always looked upon Belgium as being outside the pale of possible warfare, yet according to this article it seems to be bristling to the teeth with armaments." Herr Selingman cleared his throat.
Although Miss Baring was a person of very little consequence in her father's house, she acted on Mr. Baring as a drag. Her cold looks inadvertently damped him; and she had a way, which he could not account for in his daughter, of making blunt speeches, like that on the auspicious occasion and on her being left a rich young widow, if Gervase Norgate did for himself smartly.
Gervase Norgate feeling her way, like a blind woman, her tall figure bent down, crouched together, swaying, along the pleached alley from the garden. One or two of the more sensitive of the women covered their faces and wrung their hands. Old Miles tugged at his tufts of red hair and smote his hands together distractedly.
Norgate asked. Herr Selingman's face was troubled. "I am not sure," he said. "It is my belief that I had with me here a list of my agents in England. I cannot find it. In a sense it is unimportant, yet if a rival firm should obtain possession of it, there might be trouble." Norgate looked out into the night and smiled.
Here's Mr. Bullen. Now go ahead, Norgate." Mr. Bullen came into the room, recognised Norgate, and stopped short. "So you're here again, young man, are you?" he exclaimed. "I don't know why you've sent for me, Hebblethwaite, but if you take my advice, you won't let that young fellow go until you've asked him a few questions." "Mr. Norgate is a friend of mine," Hebblethwaite said.
Bullen went on, still fingering the penholder. "Is Mr. X a German?" Norgate was silent. "I cannot answer questions," he said, "until you have expressed your views." "You can have them, then," Mr. Bullen declared. "You can go back to Mr. X and tell him this. Ireland needs help sorely to-day from all her sons, whether at home or in foreign countries. More than anything she needs money.
Lights were flashing out everywhere, and above them shone the stars. Norgate drew a long breath of content. "It is wonderful, this," he murmured. "We are at least alone," Anna said, "and I can talk to you. I want to talk to you.
A cold bath is an excellent tonic; and when Leroy entered the dining-room his calm face bore no traces of his comparatively sleepless night. He sat down to breakfast, waited on by the attentive Norgate, and turned over the heap of letters which lay beside his plate. During his leisured meal he opened them.
For a moment, it was suspended in the air. He looked towards Norgate, and there was a new quality in his piercing gaze, an instant return in his expression of the shadow which had swept the broad good-humour from his face on his first appearance. The change came and went like a flash. He finished playing the hand and scored his points before he spoke. Then he turned to Norgate.
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