"You will understand," he said.
He opened the door for her and she passed out ahead of him. Kitson came to meet them.
"I suppose there is no news?" asked Stanford.
"None," said the other, "except high political news. There has been an exchange of notes between the Triple Alliance and the German Government. All communication with the Ukraine is cut off, and three ships have been sunk in the Bosphorus so cleverly that our grain ships in the Black Sea are isolated."
"That's bad," said Beale.
He walked to the table. It was littered with maps and charts and printed tabulations. McNorton got up and joined them.
"I have just had a 'phone message through from the Yard," he said. "Carter, my assistant, says that he's certain van Heerden has not left London."
"Has the girl spoken?"
"Glaum? No, she's as dumb as an oyster. I doubt if you would get her to speak even if you put her through the third degree, and we don't allow that."
"So I am told," said Beale dryly.
There was a knock at the door.
"Unlock it somebody," said Kitson. "I turned the key."
The nearest person was the member of the Corn Exchange Committee, and he clicked back the lock and the door opened to admit a waiter.
"There's a man here" he said; but before he could say more he was pushed aside and a dusty, dishevelled figure stepped into the room and glanced round.
"My name is Milsom," he said. "I have come to give King's Evidence!"
