"You can't mean——" she had cried.
"We're busy. Keep out of the path, kid."
She had left them rattling instructions through the telephone to a person called Phillips. The need of the moment from their point of view was to waylay the returning Barraclough.
Van Diest was shouting for his car and from the jargon of voices, Auriole learnt their intention of making an immediate descent upon the rival camp to demand terms. In the midst of the chaos Auriole slipped away, snatched up a bottle of champagne and some biscuits from the dining table and ran up the stairs to Richard's room.
Parker, who was at the door, shot the bolt after she entered and in so doing destroyed a foolish hope that she might succeed in getting Richard out of the house while the excitement relaxed observation. Her two seater car was under the trees at the end of the road and if they could reach it——
She seized Richard's arm and stifled the cry he gave with her other hand.
"Hush, hush, for pity's sake," she implored. "Here's some champagne—drink it. No, no, it isn't poison—drink—drink," and she filled a glass that stood upon the table. "Eat these biscuits too, and listen to me."
Of course he did not understand. He drank the champagne and ate the biscuits wolfishly while she talked. It was clear something had happened—some unlooked for reversal of feeling—but beside the food and drink nothing seemed to matter. The good wine felt like new life blood flowing through his veins.
"They're downstairs now," she said. "Making up their minds."
He found intelligence enough to ask: