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"About ten days ago." "H m." Duvall examined the newly painted iron surface with rather a blank expression. That anyone had walked upon it since it had received its newly applied coat was, he felt, out of the question. The paint was so new, so shiny, so yielding in its fresh glossiness that, even treading as lightly as he could, the marks of his shoes were plainly visible.
After a long time spent in debating the matter pro and con., Duvall threw himself into a chair close to the one which the man he was watching occupied, and pretended to sleep. Of Dufrenne he saw nothing. After perhaps an hour, the card game ceased, the players retired to their staterooms, or to near-by sofas, and a steward began to lower the lights.
Presently Duvall spoke. "Monsieur Dufrenne," he began, slowly, "you are no doubt familiar with the matter which takes us to London?" Dufrenne withdrew his gaze from the window and faced about in his seat with a nervous little gesture of assent. "I understand that Monsieur de Grissac has been robbed of his snuff box," he replied. "Is that all you know?" Duvall inquired pointedly.
He may have the box in his clothing somewhere or the heel of his boot. I'll get a dressing-gown, from above." He left the room, and Duvall heard him clanking up the iron staircase. "If you insist on removing my clothes," he said to Mayer, "I prefer to do so myself." He rapidly stripped off his evening suit and shoes, and threw them upon the floor.
"I can't make anything of it," Baker exclaimed, gazing toward the window. "Nor can I," said Duvall. "At one time, because of certain indentations on the letters found in this room, I had thought that they might have been introduced through the partly opened window by means of a long rod, a fishing pole, perhaps. This mark on the counterpane appears to bear out that theory.
Edwards nodded, and withdrew, and Duvall and Mr. Baker retired to the latter's private office. "What did you have in mind about that new film we're going to release to-night?" Mr. Baker asked. "I'll explain that presently. First, tell me how long it will take you to make a short section of film, say enough to show for about ten seconds?" "Oh not long. But what of?" "I'll explain that presently.
It was imperative that he should find out the truth at once. Stepping up to the door, he knocked sharply upon it, then waited for a reply. He scarcely expected one, but felt that he should at least give the persons within a chance. A long silence ensued. Duvall was about to rap again, when, to his amazement, the door slowly and noiselessly swung inward, as though impelled by some unseen hand.
Morton, quietly, "but when you consider that our apartment is on the fourth floor, that one of the windows of the room was closed, and the other only open a few inches, and that the blank wall of the opposite house is at least ten feet away, I fail to see how what you suggest is possible." Her words filled Duvall with surprise.
"I'm sorry I spoke to you, just now, but I wanted to tell you that some woman telephoned the hotel to-day, and left a warning to the effect that if you did not keep out of Miss Morton's affairs, you would be in serious danger." "How did you know where I was?" Duvall asked. "I saw you leave the hotel, and followed you." "You should not have done so." "But I wanted to give you the message.
Duvall," he said, with an evil smile, "that while I know how to cure mental disorders, I also know how to create them. Good-morning." The grave threat in his words filled Duvall with uneasiness. What did Hartmann mean? Did he propose to feed him with drugs, cunningly concealed in his food, which would steal away his senses, and leave him a babbling child? The thought was terrifying.
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