“I am quite at your service,” I returned coldly.
“Indeed, the understanding between us is,” broke in José eagerly, “that he shall have our full confidence over this matter. I have promised him that we shall do nothing in the dark. Every step we take shall be accompanied by him.”
“Quite so, quite so,” exclaimed the Prior vaguely, but rather impatiently I thought. “But there is much to be done before we can say that anything wonderful will happen in regard to these discoveries. Now, Mr Glynn,” he said, turning to me as though he were anxious to bring an awkward development of the conversation to an end, “shall I show you your rooms?”
But I threw my shoulders back and stood my ground. I was not, I felt, a pawn on their chessboard, to be pushed forward as a mere gambit to cover other and more subtle forms of attack. “Excuse me, Prior,” I said firmly, “but have we not met before?”
The figure in front of me shook either with merriment or with annoyance, whilst José himself averted his face lest there I should discover too much.
“Yes,” he said, after a pause, in painfully noncommittal tones; “we have.”
“Where?” I queried.
“Can’t you recollect?”
“No; I can’t.”
“Think.”