"You see," commented Lanyard, nodding to Folly, "how simply some things may be explained!" And thereby earned, and enjoyed, a resentful look from Pagan. "And did you actually get away across the roofs?"
"Unhappily, no. Those wretched police were up there, too," said Liane, with disgust. "So we had to go back and line up with the rest and give our pedigrees."
"Monsieur Morphew, too?" Lanyard's tone was skeptical. "And that so charming Monsieur Mallison?"
"All of us," Pagan snapped in a strangely sour temper. "That's what delayed us."
"Frankly, monsieur, you surprise me."
"How so?"
"Why! if I were in Monsieur Morphew's shoes—"
"You'd rattle," Pagan asserted.
"What a literal mind you have, my friend! Well; but if I were, like that good soul, head of an institution so exposed to police attentions, I would be at pains to provide myself with more than one secret avenue of escape—when the lights were out."
"You've got to make allowances for Morph," Pagan blandly declared; "he hasn't had your early advantages."