‘I did not find out anything,’ he said quietly.  ’I received an anonymous letter from New York giving me all the details of the scene.  The letter was written with the evident intention of injuring Mr. Van Torp.  Whoever wrote it must have heard what you said to each other, and perhaps he was watching you through the keyhole.  It is barely possible that by some accident he overheard the scene through the local telephone, if there was one in the room.  Should you care to see that part of the letter which concerns you?  It is not very delicately worded!’

Margaret’s expression had changed; she had dropped her hands and was leaning forward, listening with interest.

‘No,’ she said, ’I don’t care to see the letter, but who in the world can have written it?  You say it was meant to injure Mr. Van Torp—­not me.’

’Yes.  There is nothing against you in it.  On the contrary, the writer calls attention to the fact that there never was a word breathed against your reputation, in order to prove what an utter brute Van Torp must be.’

‘Tell me,’ Margaret said, ’was that story about Lady Maud in the same letter?’

’Oh dear, no!  That is supposed to have happened the other day, but I got the letter last winter.’

‘When?’

‘In January, I think.’

‘He came to see me soon after New Year’s Day,’ said Margaret.’  I wish I knew who told—­I really don’t believe it was my maid.’

’I took the letter to one of those men who tell character by handwriting,’ answered Logotheti.  ’I don’t know whether you believe in that, but I do a little.  I got rather a queer result, considering that I only showed half-a-dozen lines, which could not give any idea of the contents.’

‘What did the man say?’

’He said the writer appeared to be on the verge of insanity, if not actually mad; that he was naturally of an accurate mind, with ordinary business capacities, such as a clerk might have, but that he had received a much better education than most clerks get, and must at one time have done intellectual work.  His madness, the man said, would probably take some violent form.’

‘There’s nothing very definite about all that,’ Margaret observed.  ’Why in the world should the creature have written to you, of all people, to destroy Mr. Van Torp’s character?’

‘The interview with you was only an incident,’ answered Logotheti.  ’There were other things, all tending to show that he is not a safe person to deal with.’

‘Why should you ever deal with him?’

Logotheti smiled.

’There are about a hundred and fifty men in different countries who are regarded as the organs of the world’s financial body.  The very big ones are the vital organs.  Van Torp has grown so much of late that he is probably one of them.  Some people are good enough to think that I’m another.  The blood of the financial body—­call it gold, or credit, or anything you like—­circulates