In the next room Schuabe, with haggard face and twitching lips, paced rapidly up and down. From the door to the dressing-table—seven steps. From there to the fireplace—ten steps—avoiding the flower pattern of the carpet, stepping only on the blue squares. Seven! ten! and then back again.
Ten, seven, turn. A cold, soft dew came out upon his face, dried, hardened, and burst forth again.
Seven, ten, stop for a glass of water, and then on again, rapidly, hurriedly; the dawn is coming very near.
Ten! seven! turn!
[CHAPTER III]
"I, JOSEPH"
At about nine o'clock the next morning there was a knock at Father Ripon's door and Lindner, Sir Michael's confidential man, entered.
He seemed slightly agitated.