So Mallison submitted without any murmur; but the attention with which he enveloped Lanyard to the last left that one in no doubt as to his mind; and one less self-reliant might well have trembled to think that next morning at latest would see the man free, "out on bail," with every facility at his command to further plans for vengeance--else one had either overrated the power and prestige of Morphew or wronged that one in crediting him to Mallison in the rôle of patron.
The beck of Folly's head was brusque in deference to which Lanyard found himself finally closeted with her alone in her study, the temper in which she shut the door was openly one of direct impatience, his most disarming smile was wasted on the face she showed him, with its lips taut, brows level, and eyes uncompromising. To the "Well?" with which she chose to prompt him in a voice too cool for comfort, Lanyard returned a deprecating shrug.
"Well enough thus far, if you like; but this is far from the end. . . . I wonder, is it waste of time to beg a service of you, madame?"
The even brows contracted, his impudence earned the blank demur: "I don't know whether I ought!"
"After all," he submitted, "madame again has her emeralds . . ."
"And she retains that intangible something which is worth nothing till it is lost, I refer to her--as we absurdly say--good name."
"Haven't I proved my appreciation by letting you lie like a . . ."
Folly faltered, at loss for a figure, and Lanyard gravely suggested: "Like--I trust very truly--a gentleman."
"Well!" The efforts failed that she had been making to re-establish that poise of impartiality which he had already shaken, she twinkled outright. "And I loved you for it and lied like a baggage in your support. Still, I think you owe me something more . . ."
"The explanation which I am as ready to make as you are to hear it, but a strange story--"
"Forgive me if I doubt that . . . A story so strange it will hardly seem credible without the testimony of one little likely to be suspected of bias in my favour, I mean Monsieur Morphew--"
Lanyard pretended not to know he had managed to stagger her a second time: "If you would be so gracious as to telephone the good man--one assumes you know his number--"