Preston’s servant pulled the dinghy round, then started to row back.
And La Planta, blowing rings of cigarette smoke, watched him, with a look of amusement, growing smaller and smaller in the distance.
At last he straightened himself. Most of the guests had now left. Barely a dozen remained. Some one touched his elbow, and he turned.
“Well?” Stapleton said.
La Planta nodded.
“Quite satisfactory,” he answered.
“And when will he receive it?”
La Planta glanced down at his wrist-watch.
“He may have got it already. I am glad that fellow missed him, though I can’t think how he managed to. What fools people like Preston and that girl of his and Cora Hartsilver and the rest of them are to pit their wits against ours!”
“Preston is no fool, Archie. Nor, for that matter, is Cora.”