"I suppose," she said, after a pause,
"there is not a back way--a door, or window, even, to your object?"
"Unfortunately, no. There are no windows at the back; and as to the
door--like you, it was that which I tried, with the result that
recently--yesterday, in fact--I was metaphorically shown out."
Julia had learnt enough by this time, though she had not been told for
certain, that her first suspicions were right; to be sure, it was the
explosive which took Rawson-Clew to the little village evening after
evening. She had gathered as much from various things which had been
said, though she did not know at all how he was trying to get it, nor
in what way he had introduced himself to Herr Van de Greutz. Whatever
method he had tried it was now clear he had failed; no doubt been
found out, for the chemist, unlike Joost Van Heigen, was the very
reverse of unsuspecting, and thoroughly on the look-out for other
nations who wanted to share his discovery. For a moment Julia wished
she had been in Rawson-Clew's place; of course she, too, might have
failed--probably would; she had no reason to think she would succeed
where he could not; but she certainly would not have failed in this
for the reason she had failed with the blue daffodil. The attempt
would have been so thoroughly well worth making; there would have been
some sport in it, and a foe worthy of her steel.
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