"When they are gone," she whispered, "I have whole heaps of things to tell you."
She pushed open the door and followed John into the room.
Manners, who was seated at the hearth, sprang up and rushed towards Manton.
"Come in! Come in!" he cried, drawing John forward. "It does my eyes good to see you again, eh, Captain Cherriton?"
Baron Rathenau, who had also risen, enclosed Manton's fingers in his hard, cold grip. "I, too, am glad to see you," he said, fixing his eyes steadily on John's.
CHAPTER VII
Things were not as they seemed. The situation in the little parlour was delicate in the extreme, and as John's gaze passed from the fat countenance of Manners to the cold forcefulness of Cherriton, whose strong hand but a moment ago gripped his own in greeting, he told himself that if he could creep from that situation with credit he could escape from anything. Both Cherriton's and Manners's welcome rang false. They were not pleased to see him. They were startled and puzzled, and Cherriton, at least, was more than puzzled. John knew that whatever occurred between himself and these two men must occur privately. Moreover, there was a second danger, which he knew to be ever present. The light in the bright little parlour was quite strong. The fact that he had dexterously placed his back to the window might not serve him for more than a few minutes. What if Elaine Treves suddenly discovered her mistake?
Somehow the teeming possibilities of the moment gave steadiness to John's nerves. He thought of a plan, and put it into execution on the instant.
"Elaine," he said—he used her name for the first time, and as he spoke he took her slender hand in his grasp—"I have business to discuss with Captain Cherriton and Mr. Manners."
"I promise we shall not keep your husband more than a few minutes," intervened Cherriton. "Yes, old Manwitz for once is right," he thought; "here is an Englishwoman possessed of beauty."