From Ariadne to me the Rhamda glanced, then back again; and a quick satisfied smile came to his mouth. He gave an almost imperceptible nod. And, keeping his gaze fixed upon her eyes, he remarked carelessly:
“Which of these chairs shall I sit in, Fenton?”
“This one,” I replied instantly, pointing to the one I had just quit.
Smiling, he selected a chair a few feet away.
Whereupon I congratulated myself. The man feared me, then; yet he ranked my mentality no higher than that! In other words, remarkably clever though he might be, and as yet unthwarted, he could by no means be called omnipotent.
“For your benefit, Mr. Jerome, let me say that I phoned Miss Fenton and her brother a few days ago, and urged them to give up their notion of occupying this house or of attempting to solve the mystery that you are already acquainted with. And I prophesied, Mr. Jerome, that their refusal to accept my advice would be followed by events that would justify me.
“They refused, as you know; and I am here tonight to make a final plea, so that they may escape the consequences of their wilfulness.”
“You're a crook! And the more I see of you, Avec, the more easily I can understand why they turned you down!”
“So you too, are prejudiced against me. I cannot understand this. My motives are quite above question, I assure you.”
“Really!” I observed sarcastically. I stole a glance at Ariadne; her eyes were still riveted, in a rapt yet half-fearful abstraction, upon the face of the Rhamda. It was time I took her attention away.