“All right, Mr. Harwood.”

Her eyes had fallen upon the letter and her lids fluttered quickly.  She touched her pompadour with the back of her hand and tightened the knot of her tie.

“This is on the dead, Rose.  It concerns a lot of people, and it’s important for me to know the truth.  And it’s possible that you may not be able to help; but if you can’t the matter ends here.”

He rose and closed the door of his room to shut out the renewed jingle of the telephone.

“I want you to look at this letter and tell me whether you ever saw it before.”

She took it from him, glanced at the first line indifferently, looked closely at the paper, and gave it back, shaking her head.

“We never had anything like that in the office, paper or machine either.  That’s heavier than the stationery you had over in the Boordman Building, and that’s a black ribbon; we’ve always used purple copying-ribbons.  And that letter wasn’t copied; you can tell that.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Rose.  I want to know whether you ever saw that letter before.  Perhaps you’d better take another look at it.”

“Oh, I can tell any of my work across the street!  I don’t know anything about that letter, Mr. Harwood.”

Her indifference had yielded to respectful indignation.  She set her lips firmly, and her blue eyes expressed surprise that her employer should be thus subjecting her to cross-examination.

“I understand perfectly, Rose, that this is unusual, and that it is not quite on the square.  But this is strictly between ourselves.  It’s on the dead, you understand.”

“Oh, I’d do anything for you that I’d do for anybody, yes, sir—­I’d do more:  but I refused ten thousand dollars for what I know about what happened in the Transportation Committee that winter I was its stenog.  That’s a lot of money; it would take care of me for the rest of my life; and you know Thatcher kept after me until I had to tell him a few things I’d do to him if he didn’t let me alone.  I’ll answer your question straight,” and she looked him in the eye, “I never saw that letter before, and I don’t know anything about it.  Is that all?”

“To go back again, Rose,” resumed Dan patiently, “not many girls would have the strength to resist a temptation like that, as you did.  But this is a very different case.  I need your help, but it isn’t for myself that I’m trying to trace that letter.  If it weren’t a matter of actual need I shouldn’t trouble you—­be sure of that.”

“I always thought you were on the square, but you’re asking me to do something you wouldn’t do yourself.  And I’ve told you again that I don’t know anything about that letter; I never saw it before.”

She tapped the edge of the desk to hide the trembling of her fingers.  The tears shone suddenly in her blue eyes.