Teodoreschi, still standing in the doorway, rasped a single sentence, and passed out. The others flocked after him like hounds over whom the huntsman cracks his whip. Mrs. Hilyer and the Countess waved a last good-by, and Watkins closed the door on them.
Nikka and I looked at one another, and burst out laughing. Hugh, with a muffled curse, threw up the nearest window.
"Let's have some fresh air," he said. "That scoundrel Montey Hilyer makes me feel dirty. He and his tips! And we must come over and play bridge! Yes, and roulette, too, I suppose, with a wired wheel. I say, you two, do I look like such an utter ass?"
"They were a queer crowd," I admitted. "That countess wasn't bad-looking, though."
"I noticed you stuck to her," insinuated Hugh.
"Nonsense, she singled me out. I think she was trying to pump me."
"Well, Hilyer didn't ask me any questions, I'm bound to say," returned Hugh. "He was too busy with his beastly gambling anecdotes, and crooked dope. What did you make out of them, Nikka?"'
Nikka lit a cigarette before he replied.
"I think they are a party of polite thieves," he answered at last. "At least, some of them. The Italian I made nothing of."
"He didn't talk any," said Hugh.