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'I suppose we shall never know the truth, said Logotheti in an idle tone, and not seeming to look at his companion. 'Mr. Griggs do you remember Mr. Griggs, the author, at the Turkish Embassy, where we first met? Tall old fellow, sad-looking, bony, hard; you remember him, don't you? 'Why, yes, drawled Feist, emitting more smoke, 'I know him quite well.
She put it away again and locked the drawer before she went on with her letter to Van Torp. It was easy enough to tell him what she had learned about Feist from Logotheti; it was even possible that he had found it out for himself, and had not taken the trouble to inform her of the fact.
After an interval, and only upon despatching a servant, Miss Pelz returned, the tears frank streaks now down her cheeks. "Sit down, baby, and drink your coffee." "Don't want any." "Williams, bring Miss Bleema some hot coffee." "I'm finished, mother please!" "I was telling Mr. Feist a while ago, Bleema, about your ambition to be a writer, not for money, but just for the pleasure in it.
Tell me about the Greek. When we go to dinner you can finish the story in French. We spoke French the first time we met, at Madame Bonanni's. Do you remember? 'Yes, of course I do. But I was telling you about Mr. Feist 'Dinner is ready, Margaret said, rising as the servant opened the door. To her surprise the man came forward.
The reason why he had made that statement was plain enough; he meant it to be repeated to Margaret because he really wished her to think well of him. Moreover, he had recognised the handwriting at once as that of Mr. Feist, Isidore Bamberger's former secretary, who knew a good many things and might turn out a dangerous enemy.
Feist might be kept in confinement as long as his captor chose. Doubtless such a high-handed act would ultimately go against the latter when on his trial, but in the meantime the chief witness was locked up and could not get out.
If it is only to please them, wait those few weeks and do it more dignified. If it's got to be, then it's got to be. Am I right, Pelz?" Mr. Pelz turned away, nodding his head, but with lips too wry to speak. "O my God, yes! Mr. Feist, you're right. Bleema, promise us! Promise!" "Just a matter of a few weeks more or less, Miss Bleema. Just so your parents are satisfied you know your own mind."
"He is is he? Well, then well, then since you force me to it right here in front of Mr. Feist Lester Spencer and I got engaged to-day! He's the only man in my life. We're going to be married right off, in time for me to sail for France with the company. He's going to talk to you when he gets back from Horseshoe Bend. We're engaged! That's how much I think of Lester Spencer.
Feist every day at three o'clock, in the most kind way possible, made himself as agreeable as he could, and gave him cigarettes with a good deal of opium in them. He also presented Feist with a pretty little asbestos lamp which was constructed to purify the air, and had a really wonderful capacity for absorbing the rather peculiar odour of the cigarettes. Dr.
Feist had of course suspected that Logotheti had some object in forcing him to undergo a cure, and this suspicion had been confirmed by the opium cigarettes, which he would have refused after the first time if he had possessed the strength of mind to do so.
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