Defoe sank back once more.
“There!” he exclaimed to his valet. “Now tell me you didn’t hear any one order me to sit down just then!”
The Cuban shook his head. “No, senor, I hear no one talk but you since I come in.”
His master swore helplessly. “Are you trying to make a fool of me, Manuel? Do you dare stand there and tell me no one spoke to me?”
“I don’t know, senor. I only know I hear no one speak—”
Again the Voice intruded:
“It may be that Manuel thinks you are trying to make a fool of him,” it suggested.
“Do you?” Defoe asked the Cuban.
“Do I what, senor?” the valet asked, placidly.
“Do you think I’m trying to make a fool of you?”