“I had the letter of introduction,” he said, “and I want you to know that my services are entirely at your disposal. Now, what can I do for you?” He looked at the girl intently—rather anxiously, she thought. “That was explained in the letter,” she answered, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes, yes, of course, I know. I meant in what way do you propose to make use of my ... my local knowledge?” “I will tell you that, Mr. Schulz,” Mary Trevert said in a measured voice, “when you tell me what you think of the mission which has brought me here ...” The snake’s eyes narrowed a little. “For a young lady to have come out alone to Holland on a mission of this description speaks volumes for your pluck and self-reliance, Miss Trevert ...” “I asked you what you thought of my mission to Holland, Mr. Schulz,” Mary interposed coldly. It was beginning to dawn on her that Mr. Schulz did not seem to know anything about the object of her visit, but, on the contrary, was seeking to elicit this from her by a process of adroit cross-examination. She was rather puzzled, therefore, but also somewhat relieved when he said: “I can give my opinion better after you have shown me the letter ...” “What letter?” said the girl. “The letter from Elias van der Spyck and Company, to be sure,” retorted the other quickly. Mary dipped her hand into her black fox muff. Then she hesitated. She could not rid herself of the suspicion that this man with the sallow face and the yellow fangs was not to be trusted. She withdrew her hand. “This is a very delicate matter, Mr. Schulz,” she said. “Our appointment was made by telephone, and I think therefore I should ask you to show me Mr. Dulkinghorn’s letter of introduction before I go any further, so that I may feel quite sure in my mind that I am dealing with one in whom I know Mr. Dulkinghorn to have every confidence ...” Mr. Schulz’s yellow face went a shade yellower. His mouth twisted itself into a wry smile, his thin lips fleshing his discoloured teeth. He stood up rather stiffly. “You are a guest in my house, Miss Trevert,” he said with offended dignity, “I scarcely expected you to impugn my good faith. Surely my word is sufficient ...” He turned his back on her and took a couple of paces into the room in apparent vexation. Then he returned and stood at the back of the Chesterfield behind her. His feet made no sound on the thick carpet, but some vague instinct made Mary Trevert turn her head. She saw him standing there, twisting his hands nervously behind his back. “Surely my word is sufficient ...” he repeated. “In business,” said Mary boldly, “one cannot be too careful.” “Besides,” Mr. Schulz urged, “this was a private letter which Mr. ... Mr. Dulkinghorn certainly did not expect you to see. That makes it awkward ...” “I think in the circumstances,” said Mary, “I must insist, Mr. Schulz!”