"I don't think so. What I was going to say is that Martin is much
cleverer than a Chinaman. Do you believe in racial superiority, Mr.
Heyst? I do, firmly. Martin is great at ferreting out such secrets as
yours, for instance."
"Secrets like mine!" repeated Heyst bitterly. "Well I wish him joy of
all he can ferret out!"
"That's very kind of you," remarked Mr. Jones. He was beginning to
be anxious for Martin's return. Of iron self-possession at the
gaming-table, fearless in a sudden affray, he found that this rather
special kind of work was telling on his nerves. "Keep still as you are!"
he cried sharply.
"I've told you I am not armed," said Heyst, folding his arms on his
breast.
"I am really inclined to believe that you are not," admitted Mr. Jones
seriously. "Strange!" he mused aloud, the caverns of his eyes turned
upon Heyst. Then briskly: "But my object is to keep you in this room.
Don't provoke me, by some unguarded movement, to smash your knee or do
something definite of that sort." He passed his tongue over his lips,
which were dry and black, while his forehead glistened with moisture. "I
don't know if it wouldn't be better to do it at once!"
"He who deliberates is lost," said Heyst with grave mockery.
Mr Jones disregarded the remark. He had the air of communing with
himself.
"Physically I am no match for you," he said slowly, his black gaze fixed
upon the man sitting on the end of the bed.
Pages:
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450