Gramont stirred in his chair.
"Yes!" he said, low-voiced. "Yes, by heavens, I do refuse!"
With an effort he checked hotly impulsive words that were on his tongue. One word now might ruin him. He dared not say that he did not want to see Fell's money pass into the hands of Lucie—money gained by fraud and theft and crime! He dared not give his reasons for refusing. He meant now to crush Fell utterly—but one wrong word would give the man full warning. He must say nothing.
"It's not straight work, Fell. Regardless of your motives, I refuse to join you."
Jachin Fell sighed slightly, and laid down his cigar with precision.
"Gramont," his voice came with the softly purring menace of a tiger's throat-tone, "I shall now adjourn this company meeting for two days, until Saturday morning, in order to give you a little time to reconsider. To-day is Thursday. By Saturday——"
"I need no time," said Gramont.
"But you will need it. I suppose you know that Bob Maillard has been arrested for parricide? You are aware of the evidence against him—all circumstantial?"
Gramont frowned. "What has that got to do with our present business?"
"Quite a bit, I fancy." A thin smile curved the lips of Jachin Fell. "Maillard is not guilty of the murder—but you are."