“No!” she answered, “he has not told me anything.”

“Miss Longworth,” he continued, laying his hand for a moment upon her arm, “you know from what your uncle said last night that we are all practically his partners.  Now in his interests and all of ours, and naturally therefore in yours, we must have that paper.  When we get home, just step into your uncle’s room and say one sentence to him.  Say that I am downstairs.  He will know what I want, and I am sure he will tell you to give it to me.  I hate to have to bother him just now, but I can assure you that it would do him a good deal more harm just when he is pulling round, to find that we were all on the wrong side of things, than to have just one sentence breathed into his ear now.”

Virginia seemed to hesitate.

“The doctor’s orders,” she remarked, “were very strict.  I am sure I don’t know what to say.”

“Doctors,” Mr. Weiss said, “are all very well, but they do not know everything.  Just those few words from you can do your uncle no possible harm, and they may save him a very bad relapse later on.  I wouldn’t press this thing, my dear young lady, if I wasn’t convinced of its tremendous importance.  You can trust me about that.”

Virginia walked on for a few steps in silence.  They were approaching her uncle’s house, and already a small crowd of people were collected, reading the bulletin which was hung upon the railings.  Mr. Weiss stopped short.

“Isn’t there any way of getting in without being seen by all this crowd?” he asked.  “They’ll worry us to death with questions.”

She nodded, and led him round the back way.  Even here they were caught, however, by a reporter, whom Mr. Weiss brushed unceremoniously away.  Virginia took her companion into a morning-room upon the ground floor, and motioned him to a chair.

“If you will wait here,” she said, “I’ll go upstairs and see my uncle.  If I see that it is in any way possible, I will do as you ask.”

“That’s good,” he declared.  “If you don’t mind, Miss Longworth, I’ll just step into the study, where we were last night.  I dare say one of your uncle’s young men will be there, and there are a few minor details I’d like to talk over with young Smedley, if he’s about.”

“I will find Mr. Smedley for you,” Virginia said, “when I come down.  I am sure that he is not in the library, because my uncle uses that always as his private room.  Please wait here until I come down.”

She left him and made her way upstairs.  The door of her uncle’s bedroom was guarded by his man servant, who allowed her, however, to pass.  Inside the room Phineas Duge was sitting in an easy-chair, carefully dressed, smoking a cigarette, and with a pile of newspapers by his side.  On the table a few feet away was a telephone, the receiver of which he had just laid down.

“Well,” he asked, looking up as she entered, “have they made a move yet?”