“What do you find so interesting?”
Minetti darted a sardonic glance at his patient. “A book on poison. I did not realize that I had grown so rusty on the subject. Why, I remember scarcely enough to poison a field-mouse!”
He rose and crossed over to the bedside. “Do you not feel ready for the custard?”
Fernet cast a longing eye upon the yellow contents of the blue bowl.
“No. To tell the truth, I never eat it.”
Minetti shrugged.
“But I should like a glass of water.”
The hunchback drew water from the faucet. Fernet watched him like a ferret.
“At least,” thought Fernet, “he cannot drop poison in the water secretly. It is well that I can see every move he makes at such a time. I should not like to die of thirst.”
A little later Minetti removed the bowl and threw out its contents. Fernet looked on with half-closed eyes.