its hook. Her right hand, he noticed, still held the unseen thing which had been lifted from the table drawer.
"Am I watched?" she said into the transmitter, with the clear and reedy voice which had first reminded Kestner of a clarionet.
He could not hear what answer came back to her over the wire. But he knew that Wilsnach was there with the field-transmitter in front of him and he knew that Wilsnach would not fail him.
She did not raise her eyes to her enemy as she slowly hung up the receiver. But that enemy knew, by the look of troubled thought clouding her brow, that the expected message had come in to her.
When she spoke, she did so with a slow impersonality which gave an added barb to her words.
"The situation," she quietly announced, "is not without its novelty. For I am compelled to acknowledge that you too are being watched!"
