Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/81

 They faced each other, with glances locked, for several seconds of embattled silence.

"It would simplify matters," she said. She was speaking more to herself than to him.

"Again on the contrary, it would sadly complicate them," was Kestner's reply.

"Why?" she asked. But that dangerous look of appraisal, of hesitation between two possible ends, was still in her eyes.

"Because you're fighting something bigger than I am," he told her. "Because in two minutes another would take my place, and another his place, and still another, and then still another, if need be."

There was something nettling in the half-wearied indifferency of her smile. He knew that he was not making an impressive stand against her. And it did not add to his peace of mind to remember that Wilsnach at the other end of his dictograph wires was an auditor of every spoken word.

"That's a very pretty play-actor speech, monsieur," the woman at the table was saying. "But your trade is as full of tricks and deceits as mine. That, at least, you have already proved to me."

"Then I'll prove something else," said Kestner.

"What?" she demanded.

"Lift that receiver at your elbow, and ask if you are watched—watched at this moment. Speak just those three words into it: 'Am I watched?

She sat studying his face intently, her mind still occupied with some inward debate. Then with her left hand she lifted the transmitter closer to where she sat. With the same hand she took the receiver from