"It's perfectly thrilling," cried the Countess. "This is just the kind of room to house some wonderful secret—or perhaps a tragedy."
"At any rate, her meaning is successfully concealed," I said. "Always supposing she had a meaning."
I felt something behind me, and turned my head. The Italian had left the table in the center of the room and moved up to the fringe of our group. His green eyes, flaring with an uncanny vital force, were intent upon the rhyme on the overmantel.
"Humph," I thought to myself, "you may not be able to speak English, but you appear to be able to read it."
He growled something in an undertone to Mrs. Hilyer, and she nodded.
"Fascinating as your room is, I am afraid we must leave you, Lord Chesby," she called over to Hugh. "Signor Teodoreschi had just reminded me we have to put him on the London train before we drive home."
"I'll have your motors called up," returned Hugh impassively, as he and Hilyer joined the rest of us.
He rang and gave the necessary orders to Watkins.
"You really must come over and have a bit of bridge with us," Mrs. Hilyer bowled along merrily. "Of course, I know you are in mourning, but even so, you ought not to deny yourself all pleasure. Any evening at all. Do make it soon. So glad to have met you, Mr. Zaranko. I can't tell you how sorry I am you won't play for us. Mr. Nash, I've hardly had a word with you, but we'll better that over at Little Depping, won't we?"
The Countess extended her hand to me.