His clasp upon her fingers was tightened. She turned towards him. Her expression was serious but delightful. "Well, let me tell you this much, at least," she confided. "I have never before in my life been so glad to hear any one say so.... And here we are at home, and there's Jimmy on the doorstep. What is it, Jimmy," she asked, waving her hand. He came down towards her in a state of great excitement. "Say, we've had to open up the office again!" he exclaimed. "The telegrams are rolling in now. That so-called German naval victory was a fake. The Britishers came out right on top. You know you stand to net at least half a million, Mr. Lutchester? The worst of it is I have another client who's going to lose it." Pamela shook her head at Lutchester. "The possibility of increased responsibilities," he whispered. "A married man needs something to fall back upon." CHAPTER XXXI The offices of Messrs. Neville, Brooks, and Van Teyl were the scene of something like pandemonium. Van Teyl himself, bathed in perspiration, rushed into his room for the twentieth time. He almost flung the newspaper man who was waiting for him through the door. "No, we don't know a darned thing," he declared. "We've no special information. The only reason we're up to our neck in Anglo-French is because we've two big clients dealing." "It's just a few personal notes about those clients we'd like to handle." "Oh, get out as quick as you can!" Van Teyl snapped. "This isn't a bucket shop or a pool room. The names of our clients concerns ourselves only." "What do you think Anglo-French are going to do, Mr. Van Teyl?" "I can't tell," was the prompt answer, "but I can tell what's going to happen if you don't clear out." The newspaper man took a hurried leave. Van Teyl seized the telephone receiver, only to put it down with a little shout of relief as the door opened and Lutchester entered. "Thank God!" he exclaimed. "Why, I've been ringing you up for an hour and a half." "Sorry," Lutchester replied, "I was down at the barber's the first time you got through, and then I had some cables to send off." "Look here," Van Teyl continued, gripping him by the shoulder, "is six hundred and forty thousand dollars, or thereabouts, profit enough for you on your Anglo-French?" "It sounds adequate," Lutchester confessed, laying his hat and cane carefully upon the table and drawing up an easy-chair. "How much is Mr. Fischer going to lose?" "God knows! If you allow me to sell at the present moment, you'll ease the market, and he'll lose about what you make." "And if I decide to hold my Anglo-French?" "You'll have to provide us with about a couple of million dollars," Van Teyl replied, "and I should think you would pretty well break Fischer for a time. Frankly, he's an important client, and we don't want him broken, even temporarily." "What do you want me to do, then?"