It did not take her very long to decide that if there was any truth in this talk of Van de Greutz’s achievements, it must be the last mentioned—­the explosive—­which brought Rawson-Clew here.  Her judgment of men, for working purposes at least, was quick and fairly accurate, necessity and experience had helped Nature to make it so.  There were one or two things in connection with Rawson-Clew which were very clear to her, he was not a scientist pure and simple; she had never met one, but she knew he was not one, and so was not likely to be interested in the great chemist for chemistry only.  Nor was he a commercial man; neither his instincts nor his abilities lay in that direction; it was not a new process, not a trade secret which brought him here.  Indeed, even though he might appreciate the value of such things, he would never dream of trying to possess himself of them.

Julia understood perfectly the scale in which such acts stood to men like Rawson-Clew.  To attempt to master a man’s discovery for one’s own ends (as in a way she was doing) was impossible, rank dishonesty, never even contemplated; to do it for business purposes—­well, he might admit it was sometimes necessary in business—­commerce had its morality as law, and the army had theirs—­but it was not a thing he would ever do himself, he would not feel it exactly honourable.  But to attempt to gain a secret for national use was quite another thing, not only justifiable but right, more especially if, as was probably the case, the attempt was in fulfilment of a direct order.  If after Herr Van de Greutz had a secret worth anything to England, it was that which had brought Rawson-Clew to the little town.  She was as sure of it as she was that it was the blue daffodil which had brought her.

The hateful blue daffodil!  Daily, to possess it grew more imperative.  The intercourse with this man, the curious seeming equality that was being established between them, cried aloud for the paying of the debt, and the establishing of the reality of equality.  She longed almost passionately to be able to regard herself, to know that the man had reason to regard her, as his equal.  And yet to possess the thing seemed daily more difficult; more and more plainly did she see that bribery, persuasion, cajolery were alike useless.  The precious bulb could be got in one way, and one only; it would never fall into her hands by skilful accident, or nicely stimulated generosity; she must take it, or she must do without it.  She must get it for herself as deliberately as, in all probability, Rawson-Clew meant to get Herr Van de Greutz’s secret.