"Do you withdraw all charges against John D. Curtis?" demanded Devar, and his clear, incisive voice was distinctly hostile in its icy precision.
"No, sir. I do not," was the angry retort.
"Well, I guess you know best why you and the Hungarian potentate have developed this sudden attack of cold feet, but——"
"I'll thank you not to interfere, Mr. Devar," said Steingall determinedly. "If Lord Valletort thinks his business can wait till Count Vassilan has recovered from an indisposition, that is his affair only."
"I think nothing of the sort," snapped the Earl. "You all see that the Count is ill, and common humanity impels me to attend to him first. It may serve to curb this young gentleman's tongue if I say——"
But Vassilan would not permit him to say anything. Though he was the ailing man, he literally dragged Valletort out of the room and into the street.
Steingall looked at the police captain, who quitted the apartment instantly. Then the detective gazed around at the others with a placid smile which seemed to show that he, for one, was well content with the unusual turn taken by events.
"I suppose you boys have verbatim notes of all that was said," he inquired, tossing the remark collectively to the group of pressmen.
"Every word," came the assurance.
"Well, now, I want you to keep all that out of the papers."