It was Hindwood who had decided to be amiable.
“Entering Paris.”
“So late as that!” He consulted his watch. “We go through without changing, they told us.”
“There's no change till Vienna.”
The Captain's answers were mechanical. He seemed to be brushing aside a presence that annoyed him. His puzzled eyes were fixed on Santa.
Suppressing his irritation, Hindwood made another effort at friendliness. “I didn't notice you till we were getting into Calais. I guess we must have traveled together from London.”
Captain Lajos, if that really was his name, seemed to be thinking of something else. He let some seconds elapse. When he spoke, it was without looking up. “I noticed you from the first. I can prove it. Your wife didn't join you till Dover.” Then he seemed to repent of his intrusive rudeness and changed the subject. “I was glad to see the last of London. I'd been sent to meet some one who failed to arrive. It was all in the papers. You probably know as much about the circumstances as I do. The person was Prince Rogovich.”
Santa's face went white. Her lips became set in an artificial smile. Beneath the table her hand clutched Hindwood's. For all that, it was she who took up the challenge.
“We've not been reading the papers lately.” Above the clatter of the wheels, her trembling voice was scarcely audible. “My husband and I have been very busy and—— But your friend, why was he so unkind as to disappoint you?”
The Captain had turned to her as though greedy for her sympathy. His dark, bold eyes drank up her face.