“For the present—”
Mr. Sabin stopped short. His quick ears had caught the swish of woman’s gown passing along the passage outside. Emil too had heard it.
“It is the dark lady,” he whispered, “who purchased from me the other powder. See, I open gently this door. Monsieur must both see and hear.”
The door at the end of the passage was opened. A woman stepped out into the little bar and made her way towards the door. Here she was met by a man entering. Mr. Sabin held up his forefinger to stop the terrified exclamation which trembled on Emil’s lips. The woman was Lucille, the man the Prince. It was Lucille who was speaking.
“You have followed me, Prince. It is intolerable.”
“Dear Lucille, it is for your own sake. These are not fit parts for you to visit alone.”
“It is my own business,” she answered coldly.
The Prince appeared to be in a complaisant mood.
“Come,” he said, “the affair is not worth a quarrel. I ask you no questions. Only since we are here I propose that we test the cooking of the good Annette. We will lunch together.”
“What, here?” she answered. “Absurd.”