"Meaning the Santé, madame?"
"Quite so. I tell you frankly, when I'm finished lecturing you, off you go to prison."
"If that's the case I don't see I stand to gain much by retailing the history of my life. This seems to be your cue to ring for servants to call the police."
A trace of anger shone in the woman's eyes. "You're right," she said shortly; "I dare say Sidonie isn't asleep yet. I'll get her to telephone while I keep an eye on you."
Bending over the desk, without removing her gaze from the adventurer, his captor groped for, found, and pressed a call-button.
From some remote quarter of the house sounded the grumble of an electric bell.
"Pity you're so brazen," she observed. "Just a little less side, and you'd be a rather engaging person!"
Lanyard made no reply. In fact he wasn't listening.
Under the strain of that suspense, the iron control which had always been his was breaking down—since now it was for another he was concerned. And he wasted no strength trying to enforce it. The stress of his anxiety was both undisguised and undisguisable. Nor did Madame Omber overlook it.
"What's the trouble, eh? Is it that already you hear the cell door clang in your ears?"