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Updated: June 26, 2025
They know there's enough of the stuff on board to do a Cunarder for the next ten years, and they know, too, there's no lawful way of getting it into the States." "So, then! They know that. How much more may they not know?" Phinuit turned a startled face to him. "What's that?" he demanded sharply. "May they not have exercised their wits as well on the subject of your secret project, my friend?"
Eventually he saw Monk pick himself up and, making strange moaning noises, like a wounded animal, throw himself upon the door, jerk it open, and dash out. As if he had only needed that vision of action to animate him, Lanyard threw Phinuit off, so that he staggered across the slanting floor toward the door.
Lanyard," he declared, with a cheerful informality which Lanyard found more engaging than Monk's sometimes laboured mannerisms. "He's sure-enough Captain Whitaker Monk, skipper of the good ship Sybarite, Mister Whitaker Monk, owner. And my name is really Phinuit, and I'm honest-to-goodness secretary to Mr. Monk.
Hence she is controlled by suggestion, and, consequently, is compelled to believe herself to be a spirit, good or bad, if that suggestion is in any way imparted to her, and she automatically acts accordingly. "She is in no sense responsible for the vagaries of a Phinuit, for that eccentric personality is the creation of suggestion.
I couldn't see the use of going all round Robin Hood's barn, as I'd have had to in order to make Lyons. By the time I'd got there, de Lorgnes would have given up and gone on to Paris." Phinuit finished his drink. "I'll say it was a gay young party. The next time I feel the call to crime, believe me!
On the other hand, when Phinuit obligingly posed himself between the mouth of the companionway and the skylight, it had to be admitted that the glow from either side provided fairly good cover for one who might wish to linger there, observing and unobserved. "Still, I don't believe she saw anything," Monk persisted "a phantom Popinot, if anything." "But wait. What is it we have here?"
Are you satisfied with the way I keep my word, monsieur?" "It's hard to see how he can have any kick coming," Phinuit commented with some acidity. Lanyard addressed himself to Liane: "Do I understand the jewels are on this vessel?" "In this room." Lanyard sat up and took intelligent notice of the room. Phinuit chuckled, and consulted Monk in the tone of one reasonable man to his peer.
He was aware of Phinuit's sympathetic eye. The woman sent the grey car crashing again into the tree, repeated Lanyard's quaint report of the business, and launched into a vein of panegyric. "Regard him, then, sitting there, making nothing of it all !" "Sheer swank," Phinuit commented. "He's just letting on; privately he thinks he's a heluva fellow. Don't you, Lanyard?"
You have been extraordinarily frank, but you have forgotten one element, to me of some importance: you have not told me what my part is in this insane adventure." "That's not my business to tell you," Phinuit replied promptly. "When anything as important as that comes out, it won't be through my babbling. Anyhow, Liane may have changed her mind since last reports.
As it happens, I don't. I haven't been idle or fatuous in that matter, I have taken every possible precaution against miscarriage of our plans. If anything goes wrong now, it can't be charged to my discredit." "It will be an act of God," Phinuit declared: "one of the unavoidable risks of the business." "The business!" Liane echoed with scorn.
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