"How did that cheerful little story impress you?" he inquired.
I shook my head dubiously. My mustache prickled on my upper lip, like the mane of a nervous dog. "If it was true," I said slowly, "how did Davidson dare tell it?"
"Probably because he was ordered to."
I must have stared foolishly. "You think that——"
Pursuivant nodded. "My knowledge of underworld argot is rather limited, but I believe that the correct phrase is 'lay off'. We're being told to do that, and in a highly interesting manner. As to whether or not the story is true, I'm greatly inclined to believe that it is."
I drew another cigarette from my package, and my hand trembled despite itself. "Then the man is dangerous—Varduk, I mean. What is he trying to do to Sigrid?"
"That is what perplexes me. Once, according to your little friend Jake Switz, he defended her from some mysterious but dangerous beings. His behavior argues that he isn't the only power to consider."
The judge held a match for my cigarette. His hand was steady, and its steadiness comforted me.
"Now then," I said, "to prevent—whatever is being done."
"That's what we'd better talk about." Pursuivant took his stick and rose to his feet. "Let's get on with our walk, and make sure this time that nobody overhears us."