“You will do nothing of the sort,” he said quietly. “You are in my power at last, Lucille. You will do my bidding, or—”
“Or what?”
“I shall myself send for the police and give you into custody!”
CHAPTER XXXV
The Prince crossed the hall and entered the morning-room. Felix was there and Raoul de Brouillac. The Duchess sat at her writing-table, scribbling a note. Lady Carey, in a wonderful white serge costume, and a huge bunch of Neapolitan violets at her bosom, was lounging in an easy-chair, swinging her foot backwards and forwards. The Duke, in a very old tweed coat, but immaculate as to linen and the details of his toilet, stood a little apart, with a frown upon his forehead, and exactly that absorbed air which in the House of Lords usually indicated his intention to make a speech. The entrance of the Prince, who carefully closed the door behind him, was an event for which evidently they were all waiting.
“My good people,” he said blandly, “I wish you all a very good-morning.”
There was a little murmur of greetings, and before they had all subsided the Duke spoke.
“Saxe Leinitzer,” he said, “I have a few questions to ask you.”
The Prince looked across the room at him.