"What do you mean?"
"I have been in the Tower." For the fraction of a second Van Helder's eyes sought those of Mr. Naylor. Was it relief that he saw? The change was only momentary, just a flash.
Van Helder continued to blow smoke-rings as if entirely indifferent alike to his host's presence and emotions. "I was released yesterday morning. They apologised for my detention."
"And you came here?" f Mr. Naylor's voice was even and devoid of inflection.
Deliberately Van Helder took from his pocket a gold ring set with three turquoises in the form of a triangle. It was his last card.
"Ah! I see you look at my ring," he said, seeing Mr. Naylor's eyes fix greedily upon it. "It was given to me by one whom I serve." Deliberately he drew it from his finger again and handed it to Mr. Naylor, who took it casually and proceeded to examine it. The other watched him closely. Yes; he was looking at the inscription on the inside.
"They are not my initials," said Van Helder.
Mr. Naylor looked up quickly. "No," he said, returning the ring.
The other shrugged his shoulders without replying. Mr. Naylor's manner had undergone a change.
"And now about John Dene. Ah!" as one smoke-ring passed through another.