Devar resolved to say nothing, but Curtis felt that he must talk, if only for the sake of hearing his own voice. Usually a man of taciturn habit, the outcome of long vigils among an alien and often hostile race in a semi-civilized land, he had gone through so much during the five and a half hours which had unfolded their marvels since he quitted the dining-room of the Central Hotel, that he ached for human sympathy, even in a trivial matter of this sort.
"I thought I saw a light in my wife's rooms," he said.
"As you mention it, so did I," agreed Devar.
"I hope she is not awaiting my return?"
"Perhaps she is anxious about you?"
"But why?"
"Women are given that way. She knows you went out with Steingall, and he is a dangerous character."
"Is Mrs. Curtis staying in the Plaza?" asked the puzzled McCulloch.
"Yes."
"But I thought you occupied a room at the Central Hotel in 27th Street?"