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Devar showed signs of interest, so Cynthia tipped the old man hurriedly, and ran to the car. "I shall come here some other time," she gasped, and it thrilled her to believe that Fitzroy understood, though he had heard no word of quadruped fowl or bicipital monster. At Wells Medenham pitied her. He bribed a policeman to guard the Mercury, and when Mrs.
"Take it, then, and tell the elderly lady belonging to my party she is somewhere inside that Fitzroy says he cannot wait any longer. Use those exact words and be quick!" The girl vanished. An irate yet dignified Mrs. Devar came out. "Do I understand " she began wrathfully. "I hope so, madam. Unless you get in at once I intend going to Bristol, or elsewhere, without you."
Oddly enough, the praises showered on "Fitzroy" confirmed him in the opinion that Cynthia was the victim of a clever knave, be he titled aristocrat or mere adventurer. For the first time, too, he began to suspect Mrs. Devar of complicity in the plot! A nice kind of chaperon she must be to let his girl go boating with a chauffeur on the Wye!
"By the way, how are you fixed for petrol?" added Devar. "I filled the tanks, sir, before leaving the garage. We're good for the trip to Albany and back." Brodie's tone was quite cheerful.
Vassilan's male companion bore only the slight resemblance of a kindred nationality to the men who committed the murder, while he differed essentially from the treacherous "Anatole." "I wish your best girl could see you now, John D.," whispered Devar, who had just recovered from a violent fit of coughing induced by the raw whisky which Siegelman dispensed under the seal of vodka.
"As for my aunt, poor lady, she must think me the most extraordinary human being she has ever set eyes on. What puzzles me most is " "Wow! I know what aunts are capable of," broke in Devar rapidly, for he was doubtful now how his friend would regard the publicity he had not desired. "Mrs.
Devar muttered something about the mistake one made when one encouraged servants to be too familiar. But Cynthia was not to be repressed. She was bubbling over with high spirits, and amused herself by telling Medenham that Henry V. was born at Monmouth and afterwards won the battle of Agincourt "scraps of history not generally known," she confided to him. From the back of the car Mrs.
"We're to be good little boys, and sit still, and say nothing, and do as we're told," said Devar. "I'm not asking impossibilities," said Steingall, who had a dry humor, and seldom missed a chance of gratifying it. "I have merely laid down a proviso which must be observed, not for a day, or a week, but as long as any of us is alive. State affairs are not the property of individuals.
Devar, rapidly regaining her spirits after enduring long hours of the horrible obsession that Medenham had run off with her heiress, noted that telltale blush. At present her object was to assist rather than embarrass, so with a fine air of motherly solicitude she asked: "Where did you leave Fitzroy?" "He saw preparations being made to send boats in search of us, and he went to stop them.
She watched his tall figure as he strode down the hill towards the town to keep an imaginary appointment. "He used to be a nice boy," she sighed, "and now he is a man.... Heigh-ho, you're a back number, Millie, dear!" But she was her own bright self when she returned to the bald-headed Ducrot and the bewigged Mrs. Devar. "What a small world it is!" she vowed. "I ran across Medenham in the hall."
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