Since my part in this affair is one of
neutrality, and since to gain that knowledge was the object of
your invitation, I will take my leave of you."
He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze
rested on a small photograph standing at the side of it. He
scanned it eagerly. It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He
turned and looked at Beauvais long and earnestly. There was an
answering gaze, an immobility of countenance. Maurice experienced
a slight shock. The haze over his memory was dispersed. The whole
scene, in which this man loomed in the foreground, came back
vividly.
"Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying."
"I shouldn't wonder," replied Maurice, leaning against the
mantel.
"Do me the honor to explain it."
Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it.
"I have traveled a good deal," he began. "I have been--even to
South America."
"Ah!" This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was
smiling. There was a sinister something behind that smile, but
Maurice was unobservant.
He went on. "Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomatic
capacity, during one of the many revolutions.
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