His gaze finally came to rest on the barrel of the Mauser pistol. "Feeling better?" inquired Tony kindly. An obvious train of recollection flashed across the stranger's face. "I remember now," he muttered. "Something struck me—something on the stairs."
"Feeling better?" inquired Tony kindly.
An obvious train of recollection flashed across the stranger's face, and with an instinctive movement he raised his hand to his jaw.
"I remember now," he muttered. "Something struck me. Something on the stairs."
"That's right," said Tony encouragingly. "It was Bugg's fist. Very few people can take a punch in the jaw from Bugg and remember the exact details."
The stranger looked at Tony with some curiosity. He had a more refined and intelligent face than his companion, while from the few words he had spoken his foreign accent appeared to be less pronounced.
"I presume," he said, "that I am addressing Sir Antony Conway?"
Tony nodded. "You at least have the advantage of knowing whom you're talking to."