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Updated: June 17, 2025
He stood glaring at his opponent, his face contracted into a snarl, his whole appearance hideous, almost bestial. Mr. Sabin smiled upon him contemptuously the maddening, compelling smile of the born aristocrat. "Sit down!" Mr. Horser sat down, whereupon Mr. Sabin followed suit. "Now what have you to say to me?" Mr. Sabin asked quietly. "I want that report," was the dogged answer.
Horser and our friends there. After all their talk and boasting too. Why, they are ignorant of the very elements of intrigue." Lucille sighed. "Here," she said, "it is different. The Prince and he are ancient rivals, and Raoul de Brouillac is no longer his friend. Muriel, I am afraid of what may happen." Lady Carey shrugged her shoulders. "He is no fool," she said in a low tone.
In a magnificently furnished apartment somewhere in the neighbourhood of Fifth Avenue a small party of men were seated round a card table piled with chips and rolls of bills. On the sideboard there was a great collection of empty bottles, spirit decanters and Vichy syphons. Mr. Horser was helping himself to brandy and water with one hand and holding himself up with the other.
Sabin answered, "but until you can sit up and compose yourself like an ordinary individual, I decline to enter into any conversation with you at all." Again Mr. Horser raised his voice, and the glare in his eyes was like the glare of a wild beast. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. "Do you know who you're talking to?" Mr. Sabin looked at him coolly, and fingered his wineglass.
Mr. Sabin leaned towards the wall, and in a second the room was plunged in darkness. "Turn on the lights!" Skinner shouted. "Seize him! He's in that corner. Use your clubs!" Horser bawled. "Stand by the door one of you. Damnation, where is that switch?" He found it with a shout of triumph. Lights flared out in the room. They stared around into every corner. Mr. Sabin was not there.
Sabin wrote for several moments. Then he placed the forms in an envelope, sealed it, and handed it to Duson. "Duson," he said, "that fellow Horser is annoyed with me. If I should be arrested on any charge, or should fail to return to the hotel within reasonable time, break that seal and send off the telegrams." "Yes, sir." Mr. Sabin yawned. "I need sleep," he said.
He threw aside the curtain which shielded the room from the larger apartment. "Horser, come here, you damned fool!" Horser, with a stream of magnificent invectives, obeyed the summons. His host pointed to the message. "Read that!" Mr. Horser read and his face grew even more repulsive.
"By I'll see that you don't!" he exclaimed. Mace turned upon him angrily. "You selfish fool!" he muttered. "You're not in the thing, anyhow. If you think I'm going to risk my position for the sake of one little job you're wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology." "He'll have his revenge all the same," Horser answered. "It's too late now to funk the thing.
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