I managed to shoot a covert look at Mr. Pless. He was gazing at the half-hidden box with a perfectly impassive face, and yet I knew that there was a smile about him somewhere.
The miserable box contained roses, I knew, because I had ordered them for Rosemary.
"Yes, sir," said my valet, quite rigid with uncertainty, "in a way, sir." A bright look flashed into his face. "I'm taking up the wash, Mr. Smart. From the laundry over in the town, sir. It is somethink dreadful the way they mangle things, sir. Especially lady's garments. Thank you, sir."
He stood aside to let us pass, the box pinned between him and the wall. Never in my life have I known roses with a more pungent and penetrating odour! Britton seemed to fairly reek with it.
"I like the perfumes the women are using nowadays," said Mr. Pless affably, as we felt our way down the steps.
"Attar of roses," said I, sniffing.
"Umph!" said he.
It was quite dark and very damp in the underground passages. I had the curious sensation of lizards wriggling all about me in the sinister shadows. Then and there I resolved that the doors of this pestilential prison should be locked and double locked and never opened again, while I was master of the place.
Moreover, old man Schmick was down for a bad half-hour with me. How came these doors to be unlocked when the whole place was supposed to be as tight as a drum? If nothing else sufficed, the two prodigious Schmicks would be required to stand guard, day and night, with bludgeons if needs be. I intended to keep snooping busybodies out of that side of the castle if I had to nail up every door in the place, even at the risk of starving those whom I would defend.
Especially was I firm in my resolve to keep the meddling ex-husband in his proper place. Granted that he suspected me of a secret amour, what right had he to concern himself about it? None whatever. I was not the first baron to hold a fair prisoner within these powerful walls, and I meant to stand upon my dignity and my rights, as every man should who—But, great heaven, what an imbecile view to take of the matter! Truly my brain was playing silly tricks for me as I stumbled through the murky corridors. I had my imagination in a pretty fair state of subjection by the time we emerged from the dungeons and started up the steps. Facts were facts, and I would have to stick to them. That is why I bethought myself to utter this sage observation: