“His best! I should think so.”
As the cab moved off, Hindwood missed the porter's parting words. He turned to Santa. “Do they always come this hold-up game with foreigners in Vienna?”
“It isn't a hold-up game. He didn't want to drive us. He was afraid. Something's wrong. Look how empty the streets are. Didn't you see how white and scared every one was in the hotel? The cashier would have told us; you wouldn't even let me listen to him.”
“Jealous!” he thought. “It'll be awkward having to take care of both her and Anna.”
They had driven for ten minutes in silence when Santa spoke again. “It's a queer way he's taking us.”
“How queer?”
“So round-about.”
“As long as he keeps going, we don't need to worry.”
“But why should he turn up all the side-streets?”
“I don't know. It'll be time to grow nervous when he stops.”