There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," called Colonel Walton.
A moment later there entered a man of foreign appearance, with dark well-brushed hair, sallow skin and the deprecating manner of one who is in a country where he is not quite sure either of the customs or of the language. For a moment he stood smiling.
Malcolm Sage caught Colonel Walton's eye. Upon Thompson's face there spread a grin of admiration.
"Wonderful, Finlay," said Colonel Walton. "Wonderful."
"You think it is like?" enquired he who had been addressed as Finlay.
"Wonderful," repeated Colonel Walton, "but," he added a moment after, "it's a dangerous game."
Finlay shrugged his shoulders in a manner that was almost aggressively un-English. He possessed one remarkable characteristic, once he had assumed a personality, he continued to be that man until he finally relinquished the part.
"He'll put you to sleep if you make a mistake," said Sage with uncompromising candour.
Again the shrug of the shoulders.