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Updated: April 30, 2025
He sat all the time like a rock, courteous, at times obviously amusing, but underneath it all she fancied that she saw some signs of the disturbance from which she herself was suffering. She rose to her feet at last with a little sigh of relief. It was an ordeal through which she had passed. Once in the lift, her brother and Fischer discussed Lutchester's indiscretion volubly.
The hand which gripped the strangely-shaped little knife was held as though in a vice, and Lutchester's other arm was suddenly thrown around the neck of his assailant, his fingers pressed against his windpipe. "Drop the knife," he ordered. It fell clattering on to the hard floor. Nikasti, however, twisted himself almost free, took a flying leap sideways, and seized his adversary's leg.
"Thank you," Pamela answered quickly, "I am Mr. Lutchester's guest this evening. If you are still here, I shall love to come and speak to aunt for a moment later on. If not, I will ring up to-morrow morning." The bland, almost episcopal serenity of Senator Hastings' face was somewhat disturbed. It was obvious that the situation displeased him.
Every now and then she caught a glimpse of Sonia's face, saw the challenging light in her brilliant eyes, heard little scraps of her conversation. The Frenchwoman spoke always in her own language, with a rather shrill voice, which made Lutchester's replies sound graver and quieter than usual. More than once Pamela's eyes rested upon the broad lines of his back.
Her first impulse, curiously enough, was one of wild fury with herself for that single instant's pity. Her face grew cold and hard. She felt herself sitting a little more upright. Her eyes remained fixed upon the newcomers. Lutchester's behaviour was admirable. His glance swept their little table without even a shadow of interest.
Lutchester, whom I had left behind in London, come to pay an evening call in the Hotel Plaza, New York!" Van Teyl shook his head slowly, got up from his seat, lit a cigarette, and came back again. "Pam," he confessed, "my brain won't stand it. You're not going to tell me that Lutchester's in the game? Why, a simpler sort of fellow I never spoke to." "I can't make up my own mind about Mr.
Pamela's first shock of surprise did not readily pass. In the first place, John Lutchester's appearance in America at all was entirely unexpected. In the second, by what possible means could he have arrived at this precise and psychological moment? "You!" she exclaimed, a little helplessly. "Mr. Lutchester!" He smiled as he shook hands. Nikasti had slipped noiselessly from the room.
"By the bye, they have a niece staying with them." "Want a card for her?" the Honourable Philip inquired with a grin. "I should like it sent off this moment," Lutchester replied. The young man took a square, gilt-edged card from a drawer by his side, filled it out at Lutchester's dictation, rang the bell, and dispatched it by special messenger. "I've got my little buzzer outside," he observed.
There's practically no deck on those things, you know, for sitting out or anything of that sort. The British Navy's nowhere for comfort, I can tell you. The biggest liner for me, going back!" Pamela was still a little dazed. Lutchester's story did not sound in the least convincing. For the moment, however, she accepted his account of himself. "Tell me now," she begged, "about Captain Graham?"
Fischer glanced at the driver's seat of the car, as though aware of the man's disappearance for the first time. "What's become of the fellow?" he inquired. "Shot himself," the inspector replied, "after a deliberate attempt to murder this gentleman." Mr. Fischer's composure was admirable. There was a touch of gravity mingled with his bewilderment. Nevertheless, he avoided meeting Lutchester's eyes.
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