But Grady, if he
noticed his guest's annoyance, paid no heed to it; and I began to
suspect that the Frenchman's courtesy and good-breeding had ended by
rubbing Grady the wrong way, they were in such painful contrast to
his own hob-nailed manners. Whatever the cause, there was a certain
malice in the smile he turned upon the Frenchman.
"And now, Moosseer Piggott," he said, settling back in his chair a
little farther, "we're ready for the show."
"What I have to tell you, sir," began M. Pigot, in a voice as hard as
steel and cold as ice, "has, understand well, to be told in
confidence. It must remain between ourselves until the criminal is
secured."
Grady's smile hardened a little. Perhaps he did not like the
imperatives. At any rate, he ignored the hint.
"Understand, Mr. Lester?" he asked, looking at me, and I nodded.
I saw Pigot's eyes flame and his face flush with anger, for Grady's
tone was almost insulting. For an instant I thought that he would
refuse to proceed; but he controlled himself.
Standing there facing me, in the full light, it was possible for me
to examine him much more closely than had been possible on board the
boat, and I looked at him with interest.
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