"I suspect that isn't true," said Monty. "But if you object to
witnesses, how do you propose to deliver your message to me?" he asked
pointedly.

"You mean you refuse to speak with me alone?"

"My friends would draw out of earshot," he answered.

"Your friends? Your gang, you mean!" She drew herself up very
finely--very stately. Very lovely she was to look at in that
half-light, with the shadows of Tippoo Tib's* old stairway hiding her
tale of years. But I felt my regard for her slipping downhill (and so,
I rather think did Yerkes). "You look well, Lord Montdidier, trapesing
about the earth with a leash of mongrels at your heel! Falstaff never
picked up a more sordid-looking pack! What do you feed them--bones?
Are there no young bloods left of your own class, that you need travel
with tradesmen?"

-------------
* The principal hotel In Zanzibar was formerly Tippoo Tib's residence,
quite a magnificent mansion for that period and place.
-------------

Monty stood with both hands behind him and never turned a hair. Fred
Oakes brushed up the ends of that troubadour mustache of his and struck
more or less of an attitude. Will reddened to the ears, and I never
felt more uncomfortable in all my life.

"So this is your gang, is it?" she went on. "It looks sober at
present! I suppose I must trust you to control them! I dare say even