Terry, as I have said, was speechless. Not till Severn rose from his chair did he utter a word, and then, very calmly and deliberately, he said: "I would like to speak to you, if you don't mind ... alone.... Can you spare a few minutes?"
Severn seemed quite genuinely surprised. "Why, of course," he replied. "But why alone? Surely you don't mind Hilton——"
"I want you to be alone," said Terry.
"But—surely—if Madame, who knows no English, will excuse us——"
"No, no. It must be alone—if you don't mind. And not here."
Severn glanced at him curiously and then answered after a pause: "As you wish, then. But my train is at ten, remember. Shall we say half-an-hour from now—in the lounge?"
And so it was arranged.
CHAPTER FIVE
I
I DID, after all, turn up at that interview with Severn. It wasn't my intention to take sides; I was prepared to mediate, to put the brake on where necessary—in short, to keep the whole discussion well under blood-heat. Perhaps I succeeded. Perhaps it was really a compliment to my impartiality when Severn exclaimed, about half-an-hour after we had begun: "Look here, Hilton, what are you in this game—prosecuting counsel, defending counsel, judge, jury, hangman, or what?"