He was walking slowly with his back toward me, and I quickened up my pace so that I was close to him when he heard my footsteps, turned and saw me.
CHAPTER XVIII
DAGARA’S STORY
I WAS a great deal more pleased to see Dagara than he was to see me, judging by the way in which he took my hand and the little nervous shrinking movement as I linked my arm in his and turned back with him toward the carriage.
“I am afraid I am a little late, but I have made all the haste I could,” I said with a smile of apology which perplexed him considerably.
“You have an appointment then? I myself am—am waiting for a friend.”
“My appointment is with you, of course. There is a change in the plans and I have come to fetch you. I have a carriage here for the purpose. I was delighted to come. I want to ask your opinion about something.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Mr. Donnington.”
“The fact is I want to talk chess with you—about M. Polski’s ten problems, and particularly the fifth and sixth.”
His face turned to the colour of the paving stones he was staring at so intently, and his voice was as husky as if half the dust of the city had got into his throat when he muttered: “What do you mean?”
“Here’s my carriage. Jump in, and we’ll chat it over as we drive.” I had already told the driver where to go.