“Look here, Ewart,” he said, “you’d better get on that demon automobile of yours and run back to your own London. You’re far too innocent to be here, on the Côte d’Azur, in Carnival time.”
“And yet I fancy I know the Riviera and its ways as well as most men,” I remarked.
“Well, however much you know, you’re evidently deceived in Pierrette.”
“She’d deceive the very devil himself,” remarked the man whom my friend had addressed as Raoul. “Did she mention me after I had passed?”
“No. But she seemed somewhat upset at the encounter.”
“No doubt,” he laughed. “No doubt. Perhaps she’ll express a sudden desire to return to Paris to-morrow! I shouldn’t wonder.”
“But tell me, Regnier,” I urged, “why should I drop her?”
“I suppose Bindo has placed her in your hands, eh? He’s left the Riviera, and left you to look after her!”
“Well, and what of that? Do you object? We’re not interfering with any of your plans, are we?”
The pair exchanged glances. In the countenances of both was a curious look, one which aroused my suspicion.