You
could hardly have got her out of a drawing-room. Though they're all
alike, for that matter. Unarmed! It's a pity. I am in much greater
danger than you are or were--or I am much mistaken. But I am not--I know
my man!"
He lost his air of mental vacancy and broke out into shrill
exclamations. To Heyst they seemed madder than anything that had gone
before.
"On the track! On the scent!" he cried, forgetting himself to the point
of executing a dance of rage in the middle of the floor.
Heyst looked on, fascinated by this skeleton in a gay dressing-gown,
jerkily agitated like a grotesque toy on the end of an invisible string.
It became quiet suddenly.
"I might have smelt a rat! I always knew that this would be the danger."
He changed suddenly to a confidential tone, fixing his sepulchral stare
on Heyst. "And yet here I am, taken in by the fellow, like the veriest
fool. I've been always on the watch for some beastly influence, but here
I am, fairly caught. He shaved himself right in front of me and I never
guessed!"
The shrill laugh, following on the low tone of secrecy, sounded so
convincingly insane that Heyst got up as if moved by a spring. Mr. Jones
stepped back two paces, but displayed no uneasiness.
"It's as clear as daylight!" he uttered mournfully, and fell silent.
Behind him the doorway flickered lividly, and the sound as of a naval
action somewhere away on the horizon filled the breathless pause.
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