"How did this person obtain possession of the papers?" Gimblet asked after a moment. "Did he steal them from you?" "No." "From your friends?" She hesitated. "No--not exactly." "From whom, then?" asked Gimblet in surprise. "I suppose they were yours in the first place?" "He has always had them," she said reluctantly; "but they must not remain his." "Do you mean they are his own?" exclaimed Gimblet. "In that case it is you who propose to steal them!" "No," replied the strange lady calmly. "I want you to do that." "I'm sorry," said Gimblet; "that is not in my line of business. I'm afraid you made a mistake in coming to me. I cannot undertake your commission." "Money is no object; we shall ask you to name your own price," urged his visitor. But the detective shook his head. "It is a matter of life and death," she said, and her voice betrayed an agitation which could not have been inferred from her motionless shrouded figure. "If you refuse to help me, not one life, but many, will be endangered." "If you can offer me convincing proof of that," said Gimblet, "I might feel it my duty to help you. I don't say I should, but I might. In any case I can do nothing unless you are perfectly open and frank with me. Expect no assistance from me unless you tell me everything, and then only if I think it right to give it." For the first time she showed some signs of confusion. The hand upon her lap moved restlessly and she turned her head slowly towards the window as if in search of suitable words. But she did not speak or rise, though she gradually fidgeted round in her chair till she faced the writing-table; and so sat, with her head leaning on her hand, in silent consideration. It was clear she did not like Gimblet's terms; and after a few minutes had passed in a silence as awkward as it was suggestive he pushed back his chair and stood up. He hoped she would take the hint and bring an unprofitable and embarrassing interview to an end. But she did not appear to notice him, and still sat lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly the door opened and Higgs appeared. Gimblet looked at him with questioning disapproval. It was an inflexible rule of his that when engaged with a client he was not to be disturbed. Higgs, well acquainted with this rule, hovered doubtfully in the doorway, displaying on the salver he carried the blue, unaddressed envelope Lord Ashiel had told him to deliver at once. "It's a note, sir," he murmured hesitatingly. "The gentleman who was with you a little while ago came back with it. He asked me to be sure and bring it in at once." He avoided Gimblet's reproachful eye and stammered uneasily: "Put it down on that table and go," said the detective. He indicated a little table by the door, and Higgs hastily placed the letter on it and fled, with the uncomfortable sensation of having been sternly reproved.