De Grost held open the door of the taxicab.
“I want a talk with you,” he said, “before you make that call.”
“You speak as though you knew where I was going,” the Prince remarked.
His companion made no reply, but the door of the taxicab was still open and his hand had fallen ever so slightly upon the other’s shoulder. The Prince yielded to the stronger will. He stepped inside.
They drove in silence to Porchester Square. The Baron led the way through into his own private sanctum, and closed the door carefully. Cigars, cigarettes, whiskey and soda, and liqueurs were upon the sideboard.
“Help yourself, Prince,” he begged, “and then, if you don’t mind, I am going to ask you a somewhat impertinent question.”
The Prince drank the greater part of a whiskey and soda and lit a cigarette. Then he set his tumbler down and frowned.
“Baron de Grost,” he said, “you have been very kind to me since I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance. I hope you will not ask me any question that I cannot answer.”
“On the contrary,” his host declared, “the question which I shall ask will be one which it will be very much to your advantage to answer. I will put it as plainly as possible. You are going, as you admit yourself, to pay your card debts to-night or to-morrow morning, and you are certainly not going to pay them out of your income. Where is the money coming from?”
Albert of Trent seemed suddenly to remember that after all he was of royal descent. He drew himself up and bore himself, for a moment, as a Prince should.