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"You are making a mistake," he said and opened the taxi door. "You've had a shave, that's all, but, bless you, that don't deceive me." "Look here " he began. "You don't want to be recognised, my dear. I can easily forget, you know, if I'm encouraged." She stretched out a filthy clawlike hand. There was something queer in her manner a difference from the rank and file of Van Diest's regiment.
A man like you he can't spend a million pounds in a lifetime." "Don't be too sure," said Richard unwisely. "I might have inherited the knack." "Let's hear a price." Richard turned to the American with a grin. "Honestly," he replied, "anything you got from me would be dear at a shilling." The friendly quality died out of Van Diest's voice. "We was very sincere, Mr. Barraclough."
There were no soft spots in the walls of Hugo Van Diest's fortress. The water was salt. Mrs. Barraclough was one of those old ladies who are constantly being surprised. She courted surprise.
These boys wass ver' reckless. With all these motors and trains life is risky, the streets too, are dangerous. You never know with these boys." He stopped as Hilbert Torrington drew the telephone toward him. "What are you going to do?" "Ring up the Police, my friend. You will be charged with conspiracy and intent to murder." Van Diest's little eyes glittered threateningly.
Richard afterwards learnt that this voracity of appetite was nerve begotten. In moments of acute agitation it was Van Diest's custom to eat enormously on the theory that a full belly begets a placid mind. His little piglike eyes darted to and fro among the cates before him assuring themselves that he was missing nothing.
He dived a hand into the cavity lately filled by the short drawer and produced a small steel despatch box. "The goods!" Richard leaned forward with a sudden impulse to prevent the box being opened but the caressing muzzle of Van Diest's revolver coaxed him back to the chair. "Very simple," said Van Diest. "Maps inside. Open it." Hipps wasted little time trying to find a key that would fit.
The change of courses was effected by means of a small service lift inset in one of the walls. Not the smallest effort was made at conversation dishes came and went, glasses were filled and emptied in absolute silence. There was something ominous in this freedom from talk and the quiet broken only by the tinkle of table implements and the rather noisy character of Van Diest's feeding.
"The canaries; and you look what I haf here. A portrait of my little granddaughter Sibelle. She sit on my knee the Sunday afternoon and listen to the tale of Hansell and Grethel. She call me Grandparkins." Richard swept the photograph aside with the back of his hand. "I'm not sitting on anyone's knee, Grandparkins," he said. A bright purple ran over Van Diest's features in blotches and streaks.
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