Chapter Fifteen.
Within an Ace.
Slowly I realised that Paulton was bending over me, holding me down.
The Baronne de Coudron, upon the opposite side of the bed, had her thin, strong sinewy hands upon my throat. Beside the gas-jet a yard or two away, Faulkner stood with his hand still holding the little chain he had pulled in order to turn on the light.
Nobody spoke.
The Baronne, removing her hands from me, stood upright, big and strong, gazing down upon me still. She wore an elaborate kimono made of some soft pink Eastern material. Paulton was in evening clothes, one shirt-cuff was turned back.
“You should have taken my advice, m’sieur,” the Baronne said in her deep voice, addressing Dago Paulton. She spoke quite calmly.
Instead of answering, and without loosening hold, he half-turned, apparently undecided what to do, until his eyes rested upon Faulkner. Then suddenly, to my surprise, he released me. I got up.
“Faulkner, come here,” he said sharply.