Yet, as the minutes wore on, the burglar began to be conscious that it was but a shallow well of information and amusement that he pumped. The game, fascinating with its spice of daring as it had primarily been, began to pall. At length the masquerader calculated the hour as ripe for what he had contemplated from the beginning; and interrupted Hickey with scant consideration, in the middle of a most interesting exposition.
"You'll pardon me, I'm sure, if I trouble you again for the time."
The fat red fingers sought uncertainly for the timepiece: the bottle was now empty. The hour, as announced, was ten minutes to two.
"I've an engagement," invented Anisty plausibly, "with a friend at two.
If you'll excuse me——? Garçon, l'addition!"
"Then I und'stand, Mister Maitland, we e'n count on yeh?"
Anisty, eyelids drooping, tipped back his chair a trifle and regarded
Hickey with a fair imitation of the whimsical Maitland smile. "Hardly,
I think."
"Why not?"—truculently.
"To be frank with you, I have three excellent reasons. The first should be sufficient: I'm too lazy."
Disgruntled, Hickey stared and shook a disapproving head. "I was afraid of that; yeh swells don't never seem to think nothin' of yer duties to soci'ty."
Anisty airily waved the indictment aside. "Moreover, I have lost nothing. You see, I happened in just at the right moment; our criminal friend got nothing for his pains. The jewels are safe. Reason Number Two: Having retained my property, I hold no grudge against Anisty."