"The whole contents of his safe!" repeated Dora. "What you ask is monstrous. I can’t do it—no one can; no one but I and his secretaries know where he keeps his keys. Why, he has often locked up the door of his room himself, since he found me there. The other matters were comparatively easy—mere questions of notes and things that were filed with his ordinary papers. This is impossible; I can’t do it—-I won’t. It could be traced to me, and he would kill me if he knew." Brand watched her blandly. He thought suddenly of his wife, and of how she would have met such an appeal. The question of her husband’s honour, the welfare of her country, meant absolutely nothing to Dora Farquharson. All she dreaded was punishment of her own action, the fear of being found out. She was, indeed, panic-stricken at the thought; little livid patches had broken out on her cheek. "You would prefer that I should tell your husband the truth, then?" said Brand pleasantly. "Do take another sandwich. The truth not only about what happened before his marriage, but what has happened since? You are not a very discreet woman, you know. All the communications you’ve sent me—that you have got hold of so cleverly at my request—have been addressed in your own handwriting; most have been accompanied by personal letters explaining the nature of the matter sent. I am afraid your position in the world would not be very secure, Mrs. Farquharson, when these facts were made known socially. Farquharson is an implacable sort of person, you know; he would always put the honour of his country above that of his own. There would be no question as to which he would sacrifice, and very unpleasant things are said of women who do as you have done. Now, with one little act you can free yourself from me and my demands. The very wholesale nature of the case will look like commonplace burglary. I’ve got a little instrument here with which you can break the lock of your husband’s safe quite easily, also a duplicate key of the study door in case of accidents—an expert made it, and your work will look like that of an expert. I shall want those papers before the end of the week after next. When once they are in my hands I’ll never trouble you again." He took out his watch. "It’s time you were starting off, isn’t it? I’ve got an appointment in ten minutes. You’ll just get back in time for dinner. Good-bye now. Don’t forget your promise." "My promise? But——" began Dora again, and broke off, as if hypnotized by his angry movement. She seemed incapable of doing more than repeat his words. She stared at him in hopeless bewilderment, swaying, as though the light of ordinary intelligence had been wiped from her face. He looked at her sharply and then rang the electric bell behind him. When he spoke again his voice was kinder.