Jimmy sat down.
“I also want a bit of a talk,” he said calmly. “There is a young lady in this house, brought here against her will. You’ve got to let her go.”
The angry mutter of protest that he had expected did not come, rather was his dictum received in complete silence. This was bad, and he looked round for the danger. Then he missed a face.
“Where is our friend Goyle, our dear landlord?” he asked with pleasant irony.
“He hasn’t been here to-day,” Bat hastened to say.
Jimmy looked at Connor standing by the door biting his nails, and Connor avoided his eye.
“Ah!” Jimmy’s unconcern was perfectly simulated.
“Jimmy wants us to send the girl back.” Connor was speaking hurriedly. “He thinks there’ll be trouble, and his friend the ’tec thinks there will be trouble too.”
Jimmy heard the artfully-worded indictment unmoved. Again he noticed, with some concern, that what was tantamount to a charge of treachery was received without a word.
“It isn’t what others think, it is what I think, Connor,” he said dryly. “The girl has got to go back. I want Reale’s money as much as you, but I have a fancy to play fair this journey.”