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Suave young ladies to display wondrous robes. Females headed for the glamorous shops on New YorkвЂ™s Street-Called-Straight: Fifth Avenue, the great bazaar of the New World. Well-fed males returned to their offices to consider further projects for making more dollars. As Harkness retired speedily, Nayland Smith dropped something which made it necessary for him to stoop when the attachГ© passed near his table.Д¬oming out onto Forty-sixth Street, Harkness exchanged a word with a man who was talking to a hotel porter. The auburn-haired girl was walking towards the exit. Look! TheyвЂ™re going! Have the redhead covered.Дetail another man to keep the Burmese scout in sight. Nayland Smith met the glance of HarknessвЂ™s frank hazel eyes, and nodded sympathetically. But, quite honestly, I donвЂ™t understand.вЂќ No doubt your information is away ahead of mine. вЂњYouвЂ™re more than several steps beyond me. Harkness stared at his cigar, as if seeking to concentrate. вЂњSallow? HeвЂ™s Burmese! TheyвЂ™re not all Communists, you know.вЂќ Our diplomatic acquaintance and his charming friend are being covered.вЂќ вЂњEngland has lost two cabinet ministers, mysteriously, in the past few months.вЂќ All the time SmithвЂ™s glance had been straying in the direction of a certain party, and suddenly: вЂњRight!вЂќ he rapped. I gain nothing by having a rock in my boxing-glove if the other fellow has one too. Once a weapon of war is given publicity, it loses its usefulness. Why has a certain power sent all its star agents to the United States? What are they trying to find out?вЂќ вЂњStrange to reflect,вЂќ he said, вЂњthat these people, wrapped up, air tight, in their own trifling affairs, like cigarettes in cellophane, are sitting on top of a smouldering volcano.вЂќ It was a grim face, a face which hid a secret, until Nayland Smith smiled. The lean, brown face might be a trifle more lined. He had met him only once before, and the years had silvered his hair more than ever, but done nothing to disturb its crisp virility. Her companion appeared to be absorbed, either in what she was saying or in the way she said it.ДЄnd while Nay-land Smith studied many faces, Harkness studied Nayland Smith.

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And nearly all the women were talking about how to spend it.Д«ut not the graceful girl with that glowing hair. Nearly all these men were talking about how to make money. Deals of one sort or another hung in the smoke-laden air.

Smith surveyed the crowded, panelled room. вЂњYou donвЂ™t think sheвЂ™s a Russian?вЂќ Harkness suggested.

Nayland Smith refilled his coffee cup, glanced reluctantly at a briar pipe which appeared to have been rescued from a blast furnace, and then put it back in his pocket. вЂњA woman who looks like that is always important. He turned back again, dropping a match in a tray. The grill was fashionable for lunch, and full. Turning, when about to light a cigar, Harkness presently discovered the diplomatвЂ™s table. Sir Denis Nayland Smith, ex-chief of the Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard, spoke in a Bren-gun manner, thought and moved so swiftly that his society, if stimulating, was exhausting. Harkness, who had been briefed by Washington to meet the dynamic visitor, was already experiencing nerve strain. вЂњWhoвЂ™s the redhead,вЂќ snapped Nay-land Smith, вЂњlunching with that embassy attachГ©?вЂќ