"It was even I who advised Mrs. McFee to call monsieur into consultation."
The full, hard lips grudgingly released the monosyllable: "Why?"
"It recommended itself as the simplest way to seduce you into a conversation which I meant to have before morning whether you wanted it or not; furthermore, for me, by far the safest. Figure to yourself how much more secure I feel in my skin, meeting you here, the last place where you would have thought to find me . . ."
Morphew shifted slightly toward the door, a movement of impulse which he seemed to repent when he found Lanyard in the way. "I came here to have a talk with Mrs. McFee," he heavily stated, "at her invitation . . ."
"I have begged her to grant me the favour of a few minutes alone with you."
"That places one of us at a deplorable disadvantage; for I have much to say to you, monsieur, and mean to say it."
"It desolates me to feel obliged to inform you that, entirely by chance and contrary to my preference and habit, I happen to be armed."
"Seems to me I've heard"--a slow sneer darkened the face of uncouth ugliness--"it used to be your boast, 'The Lone Wolf never kills'."
"Monsieur says truly 'it used to be' . . . He will, moreover, wisely remind himself that the Lone Wolf is no more, his code, such as it was, is no sure guide to what Michael Lanyard may do when he fights for the right to live his own life in his own way."
Another instant their glances clashed, then Morphew's fell, he turned sullenly back to the table, fumbling, to cover nervousness out of character, for his cigar-case. "Well: what do you want?"
Lanyard pushed the hall door to before replying.
"First, to give myself the felicity of telling you the great news."
Eyes beneath leaden lids shifted back to Lanyard's face, a gross hand grossly crusted with diamonds brought to light a case of gold studded with diamonds, but delayed to open it.
"Come, Monsieur Morphew! confess you are wondering what has become of that zealous disciple of yours, Monsieur Mallison."
But Morphew had found it necessary to moisten his lips before he could speak.
"He is, at the present moment, one has good reason to believe, wildly telephoning about Town to get in touch with you and pray for a bondsman to bail him out, when he is arraigned tomorrow morning for stealing Mrs. McFee's emeralds."