“That is, if you have it, in this thirst-beridden country?”
“I’ll bet he has with the rum runners not two miles from his windows!” said Gerald.
“I think there is a bottle or two,” Alexis smiled almost genially. The Spaniard, under other circumstances, would have been quite endurable. There was something naïvely wise about him that appealed to one.
Jules entered and took Alexis’ order.
A cigarette between her lips, Ellen strolled about the large room. She leaned across a table and sniffed at the red roses.
“You do yourself well, Mr. Petrovskey, ‘roses in December!’ Isn’t that the title of a song? Sent by some admirer, I suppose?”
“Or did we come in upon a party?” Olive’s ingenuous eyes were fixed upon Alexis.
“What is this?” exclaimed Ellen before he could reply. She held up the empty jewel case. “Have you been giving yourself presents?”
Alexis’ hands clenched. His nails bit into the palms savagely.
“Not guilty, Miss Barnes. That box must have been left by the former owner. Let me see it.” He took the box from Ellen’s fingers and pocketed it quietly.