“We have followed you here with your lover,” exclaimed the Prince angrily, addressing Liane. “We saw you driving to the station together, and watched you. We—”
“The Golden Hand” hearing the voice, turned, and springing to her feet faced them.
“Mariette!” Zertho gasped, blanched and aghast, the words dying from his pale lips. In their eagerness to follow Liane and George they had entered the villa, not knowing that therein dwelt the woman from whom they intended on the morrow to fly.
Chapter Nineteen.
The Miniature.
Zertho gave her a single glance full of hatred, then, with a gesture of impatience after a few quick words, turned to make his exit. As he did so, however, he found himself face to face with a man who, standing in the doorway, resolutely barred his passage.
He stood glaring at him as one stupefied. The man was Max Richards.
“No,” the latter said. “Now that you have chosen to call here uninvited it is at least polite to remain at the invitation of your hostess.”