"You are certainly a little out of sorts, Saxe Leinitzer," he
remarked. "You look pale, and your hands are not quite steady.
Nerves, I suppose. You should see Dr. Carson in Brook Street."
The Prince shrugged his shoulders.
"My health," he said, "was never better. It is true that your
coming was somewhat of a surprise," he added, looking steadily at
Mr. Sabin. "I understood that you had gone for a short journey,
and I was not expecting to see you back again so soon."
"Duson," Mr. Sabin said, "has taken that short journey instead.
It was rather a liberty, but he left a letter for me fully
explaining his motives. I cannot blame him."
The Prince stroked his moustache.
"Ah!" he remarked. "That is a pity. You may, however, find it
politic, even necessary, to join him very shortly."
Mr. Sabin smiled grimly.
"I shall go when I am ready," he said, "not before!"
Lucille looked from one to the other with protesting eyebrows.
"Come," she said, "it is very impolite of you to talk in riddles
before my face. I have been flattering myself, Victor, that you
were here to see me. Do not wound my vanity."
He whispered something in her ear, and she laughed softly back at
him. The Prince, with the evening paper in his hand, escaped from
the box, and found a retired spot where he could read the little
paragraph at his leisure.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230