Fyles nodded. Then he added:
“But I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Why?”
The two men sat eye to eye. In the shadow Fyles’ expression was largely hidden. The Wolf’s sharp inquiry was there for all to see. The man had no thought of concealment. He was concerned for but one thing at the moment.
“I wasn’t yearning to see you drop to the bottom of the pit of hell for—Sinclair.”
A warm grin flashed into the Wolf’s face and passed as suddenly as it appeared. He sat up, leaning forward intensely.
“Wher’s Annette?”
The man’s moods seemed to change with kaleidoscopic rapidity. Now he was a living volcano of scarcely suppressed emotion. His question was the whole reason for his presence there.
“In barracks.”
“Barracks? Why? Why’s she in barracks?”