"This, I presume," he remarked, "is not where you serve the eightpenny table d'hote?"
"But it would not be possible," she answered. "We have no customers for that. If one arrives we put together a few scraps. But one must make a pretense. Monsieur understands?"
"I will take," he said, "a small glass of fin champagne."
She vanished, and reappeared almost immediately with the brandy in a quaintly cut liqueur glass. A glance at the clock as she passed seemed to have increased her anxiety.
"If monsieur will drink his liqueur and depart," she prayed. "Indeed, it will be for the best."
Mr. Sabin set down his glass. His steadfast gaze seemed to reduce Annette into a state of nervous panic.
"Annette," he said, "they have placed me upon the list."
"It is true, monsieur," she answered. "Why do you come here?"
"I wanted to know first for certain that they had ventured so far," Mr. Sabin said. "I believe that I am only the second person in this country who has been so much honoured."
"Monsieur," she said, "your only danger is to venture into such parts as these. London is so safe, and the law is merciless. They only watch. They will attempt nothing. Do not leave England. There is here no machinery of criminals. Besides, the life of monsieur is insured."
"Insured?" Mr. Sabin remarked quietly. "That is good news. And who pays the premium?"
"A great lady, monsieur! I know no more. Monsieur must go indeed. He has found his way into the only place in London where he is not safe."
"You are expecting, perhaps," he said, "one of my friends from the--"
"It is true," she declared. "He may be here at any instant. The time is already up. Oh, monsieur, indeed, indeed it would not do for him to find you."
"You are perhaps right," he said regretfully, "although I should much like to hear about this little matter of life insurance while I am here."
"Indeed, monsieur," Annette declared, "I know nothing. There is nothing which I can tell monsieur."
Mr. Sabin suddenly leaned forward. His gaze was compelling. His tone was low but terrible.
"Annette," he said, "obey me. Send Emil here."
The woman trembled, but she did not move. Mr. Sabin lifted his forefinger and pointed slowly to the door. The woman's lips parted, but she seemed to have lost the power of speech.