“There you are! I've got you! You faithless little beast.”
Dyckman rose to an amazing height, lifted Kedzie to her feet, and answered:
“Who the devil are you, and what the devil do you want?”
“I'm the husband of that shameless woman; that's who I am,” Gilfoyle shrilled, a little cowed by Dyckman's stature.
“Oh, you are, are you!” said Dyckman. “Well, you're the very chap I'm looking for. Come in, by all means.”
Connery, seeing that the initiative was slipping from Gilfoyle's flaccid hand, pushed forward with truculence.
“None of that, you big bluff! You needn't think you can put anything over on me.”
“And who are you?” said Dyckman.
“I'm Connery the detective, and I've got the goods on you.”
He advanced on Dyckman, and Gilfoyle came with him. Gilfoyle took courage from the puzzled confusion of Dyckman, and he poured forth invectives.