“Who was the—man?”
“I could not see——”
“Very well.” He turned and looked down the dusky river out of light-coloured, murderous eyes. Then, always awkward in his gait, he retraced his steps to the house. There a servant accosted him on the terrace:
“The telephone, if Monsieur le Comte pleases——”
“Who is calling?” he demanded with a flare of fury.
“Paris, if it pleases Monsieur le Comte.”
The Count d’Eblis went to his own quarters, seated himself, and picked up the receiver:
“Who is it?” he asked thickly.
“Max Freund.”
“What has h-happened?” he stammered in sudden terror.