"I've got him as in a vice; I've only to turn the screw and--I squeeze him as flat and dry as a lemon." She drew a long breath of satisfaction, of relief.
"You are clever!" she said.

"And in one fortnight." He smiled grimly.
"Yes; it is sharp work; and it has taken some doing--and some money.
But I've worked it.

Black Steve--I mean Sir Stephen Orme, the great Sir Stephen--is under my thumb.

To-night, the night of his triumph, I am going to crack him like an egg." "You will ruin him ?" she said.
"That is it," he said, with a nod.

"I shall ruin him!" "Is there no escape ?" she asked in a low voice.
"None," he replied, grimly.