He remained on his feet. “I have made no accusation against you, Miss Noelson, and you can answer me or not as you please. It will simplify my work if you answer, but bear in mind that I have other means of getting information.”

He noted that the wave of angry colour, which had suffused her face, had died down, leaving her with a touch of pallor. But she was holding herself steadily in hand, and had all her self-possession.

“In that event,” she returned, icily, “you had better apply to those other sources of information.”

Labar was studying her with a cold scrutiny, weighing her words and her demeanour with infinite calculation. He was alight with suspicion, but somehow he felt reluctant to press this dainty little creature with the cold official catechism that was in his mind. This was the man whom of all others, in spite of certain mild flirtations, Scotland Yard would have held immune from feminine influence. He pulled himself together. The work had to be done.