Ah!"
His entwined fingers cracked as he tore his hands apart, flung out his
arms, and leaned his forehead on them in a passion of fury. The other
two looked at his shaking back--the attenuated Mr. Jones with mingled
scorn and a sort of fear, Ricardo with the expression of a cat which
sees a piece of fish in the pantry out of reach. Schomberg flung himself
backwards. He was dry-eyed, but he gulped as if swallowing sobs.
"No wonder you can do with me what you like. You have no idea--just let
me tell you of my trouble--"
"I don't want to know anything of your beastly trouble," said Mr. Jones,
in his most lifelessly positive voice.
He stretched forth an arresting hand, and, as Schomberg remained
open-mouthed, he walked out of the billiard-room in all the uncanniness
of his thin shanks. Ricardo followed at his leader's heels; but he
showed his teeth to Schomberg over his shoulder.
CHAPTER SIX
From that evening dated those mysterious but significant phenomena in
Schomberg's establishment which attracted Captain Davidson's casual
notice when he dropped in, placid yet astute, in order to return
Mrs. Schomberg's Indian shawl. And strangely enough, they lasted
some considerable time. It argued either honesty and bad luck or
extraordinary restraint on the part of "plain Mr. Jones and Co." in
their discreet operations with cards.
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