“Darling,” Simon murmured, clasping her hands more tightly, and gently kissing their rosy palms.
“Yes, I am sad — for I know now where is your frien’.”
Simon’s eyes lifted quickly. “He — he’s not dead, is he?” he asked with a sudden fear.
“No, it was as you suppose, ’e is in a prison of the State.”
“But that’s splendid — do tell me where!”
“I will tell you later,” she said with a sigh. “The night eet is yet young — you shall know all before you go.”
“But, darling, why are you so sad about it? I mean, we’ll get Rex out, that is, if we can — and even if I have to go back to London I’ll come back here later — next month. After all, Moscow’s only two days’ journey from London by ’plane.”
“Ah, that is what makes me so sad, my Simon. I ’ave ’ad to pay a price for this knowledge about your frien’.”
“How — what exactly do you mean?” he asked anxiously.
She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. “It was Leshkin ’oo tell me what I want to know. I ’ave been at ’im for the last two days.”