Evidently he had a purpose.
"You will be interested to know," remarked the detective, watching her narrowly, "that District Attorney Wickham, who had the case in charge out there, is in New York, with the president of the Central Western Trust." "Yes ?" she said non-committally.
"I told them I was on the trail, through a woman, and they have come here to aid me." Why had he told her that?
Was it to put her on her guard or was it in a spirit of bravado?
She could not think so.

It was not his style to bluster at this stage of the game.

No, there was a deep-laid purpose.
He expected her to make some move to extricate herself that would display her hand and betray all.

It was clever and a less clever person than Constance would have fallen before the onslaught.
Constance was thinking rapidly, as he told her where and how the new pursuers were active.

Here, she felt, was the crisis, her opportunity.
Scarcely had Drummond gone, than she, too, was hurrying down the street on her way to see Mackenzie's pursuers face to face.
She found Wickham registered at the Prince Henry, a new hotel and sent up her card.