Men of Affairs - Part 44
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Part 44

"Our dear Ca.s.sis is a born actor. Well, gentlemen, I won't keep you any longer except to offer my sympathy that you have found A. B. so indifferent a confidant. Good day."

And with a polite bow he turned and mingled with the crowd.

"Can't quite get the strength of all that," observed Hipps as he and Van Diest pa.s.sed out of the main door, "but one thing sticks out a mile. We can't hold our prisoner indefinitely. He must be made to talk right away."

"Dis evening we make the big effort."

"And a.s.sumin' it fails?"

"Dat would be a peety--such a peety."

Hipps stood thinking for a moment.

"I've half a mind to turn on the girl again. Let her vamp the secret out of him. We don't progress, you know. Say, you don't think they've a line on where we've got him hid?"

Van Diest waved away the suggestion.

"No, no, no. S'all right. S'arranged too well."

"Then I'll trot up West and buy Auriole a lunch. What time tonight?"

"At nine o'clock."

"I'll be along."

He jumped into a taxi, drove round and collected Auriole and carried her off to the Carlton Hotel. She seemed tired and lackl.u.s.tre, a circ.u.mstance he noted with some small annoyance.

"See here, kid," he said. "We've a big set piece scheduled for tonight and you're a partic.i.p.ant."

"I am."

"Sure. Our friend has proved a disappointment in the talking line."

For a moment a flash of enthusiasm burned in her eyes.

"The persecution has failed then?"

"It's early to say so but we've a notion it 'ud do no harm to accelerate a trifle."

"You'd hardly dare torture him more than you've done already."

"We thought of trying out one or two new effects but supposing they fail then it's up to you to take a hand."

"No," said Auriole, "no. You found me a failure before--let's leave it at that. My part's ended."

"Haven't you kind o' forgotten something?"

"What?"

"My offer to you was made providing we pull off this deal. Failing that it's cancelled."

Auriole's expression, seemed to go very flat indeed. There was a look of disgust in her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Maybe we shall call on you for the 'whisper and I shall hear' act.

It'd make a nice variety for Anthony after the shouting."

"You want me to make love to him?"

"Sure. And I'll try and govern my jealousy for a short stretch."

She was silent for a longish while, then she nodded.

"But only as a last resort," she insisted.

"That's a bet. Me and Van'll be trundling along in the Rolls about ninish--care to join us?"

"No, I'll use the two seater."

"Back your fancy. But see here--no back sliding, mind. A h.e.l.l of a lot hangs on his being made to talk--a h.e.l.l of a lot," he repeated seriously.

"What do you mean?"

"Never do for a fine chap like him to die young."

"Die? You wouldn't dare."

"It's certain sure we wouldn't dare turn him out in the world again after what's happened."

"Do you mean you'd----"

"Think it over."

And she thought it over while Ezra P. Hipps addressed himself to a liberal helping of saddle of mutton smeared with great dollops of red currant jelly that looked to her like blood.

CHAPTER 25.

MR. BOLT DROPS IN.

An undercurrent of suppressed excitement pulsed through Mrs.

Barraclough's household on the day of the seventeenth. You could feel it throbbing like the beat of a distant drum. Voices sounded different, eyes shone strangely, feet touched the ground as though it lacked solidity. A sense of electricity was in the air, like the unnatural calm that is herald to a storm. Mrs. Barraclough herself was the one person outwardly unaffected by the general mood and set about her daily duties as though nothing were happening. She never even mentioned Anthony's name but instead freely discussed the imminent confinement of Mrs. Bra.s.sbound, the wife of the village policeman. She loved babies and it struck her as a happy omen that the little arrival was expected on the very day that should mark her son's return from excursions and alarums.

Isabel rang her up during the morning--a trunk call--with the brave intention of expressing firm and unshakable optimism but the effort was pathetically tremulous and finally petered out with inarticulate sobs and chokings.