“I know nothing,” answered Cartoner. “But I conclude you have failed, since you are here—and he is there.”
And he pointed towards Martin.
“Thanks to you.”
“No, I had nothing to do with it,” said Cartoner.
“You cannot expect me to believe that.”
“I do not care,” replied the English diplomat, gently, “whether you believe it or not.”
Kosmaroff moved towards the door. He carefully avoided passing near Cartoner, as if too close a proximity might make him forget himself.
“I will tell you one thing,” he said, in a hard, low voice. “It will not do for you to show your face in Poland. Don't ever forget that I will take any chance I get to kill you! There is not room for you and me in Poland!”
“If I am sent there I shall go,” replied Cartoner. And there crept to one side of Kosmaroff's face that slow smile which seemed to give him pain.
“I believe you will.”