“Yes. It is understood.”
“She is pretty,” Mr. Kuvetli went on thoughtfully. “It is a pity that your business is so urgent. However, perhaps you could return to Paris when you have finished your work.” He smiled: the schoolmaster promising a sweet for good behaviour.
“I suppose I could. Is there anything else?”
Mr. Kuvetli looked up at him slyly. “No. That is all. Except that I must ask you to continue to look as distrait as you have been looking since we left the Piræus. It would be a pity if Monsieur Moeller should suspect anything from your manner.”
“My manner? Oh, yes, I see.” He stood up and was surprised to find that his knees felt quite weak. He said: “I’ve often wondered what a condemned man feels like when they tell him that he has been reprieved. Now I know.”
Mr. Kuvetli smiled patronisingly. “You feel very well, eh?”
Graham shook his head. “No, Mr. Kuvetli, I don’t feel very well. I feel very sick and very tired and I can’t stop thinking that there must be a mistake.”
“A mistake! There is no mistake. You need not worry. All will be well. Go to bed now, my friend, and in the morning you will feel better. A mistake!”
Mr. Kuvetli laughed.