Greta turned on the woman.
"Damn you! you—" words from which Nan fled shuddering along the corridor, a wardress at her heels.
CHAPTER XXX
Singleton had spent a great deal of time on the case. He staked much on that meeting between the two women. In his disgust and rage at the Schwarzenberg's self-control under all her surface emotionalism, her shrewd conviction that the interview did not lack auditors, spoiled all his plans.
He had as good as pledged himself. "Shut those two up in an empty room," he had said to the chief, "and you've only to turn on the tap."
And behold Greta, with a watch set on that tongue of hers, talking tosh, and entirely content to work on the feelings of that little fool!
"She is delirious!" Nan caught up with Singleton and a strange gentleman in the lower corridor. The strange gentleman hurried on and was lost to sight. She was too excited at the moment to wonder how Singleton happened to be in the corridor or to notice his black looks. Breathing quick and hard, she said, "Greta is delirious!"
"Oh, is she?" She elicited no more till they were getting into the car. Nan asked Singleton to tell the chauffeur to drive to Whitehall.