“Let me see it.” Stewart was about to reach into his pocket and produce it, when he remembered his companion’s suggestion. So he felt in one pocket after another without result, while the Germans shifted impatiently from foot to foot. [Pg 81] [Pg 81] “It must be in my other coat,” he said, half to himself, enjoying the situation immensely. “But no; I do not remember changing it. Ah, here it is!” and he drew it forth and handed it to the officer. The latter took it, unfolded it, and stepped out into the court where the light was better. He read it through carefully, compared the description point by point with Stewart’s appearance, and then came back to the table. “Who is this person?” he asked, and nodded toward the girl. “She is my wife,” answered Stewart, with a readiness which astonished himself. “She did not arrive here with you.” “No,” and he told the story of how he had left her at Spa to recuperate from a slight nervous attack, while he himself went on to Vienna. He omitted no detail—even added a few, indeed, in the fervor of creation—and with his limited German, which his hearers regarded with evident contempt, the story took some time to tell. The police listened attentively to every word, without the slightest sign of impatience, but long before it was ended, the lady in question was twisting nervously in her seat. “What is the matter, Tommy?” she demanded, [Pg 82]petulantly. “Are you relating to them the story of your life?” [Pg 82] “No,” he explained, blandly, venturing at last to look at her, “I was just telling them how it was that you and I had arranged to meet at this hotel.” “Well—now tell them to go away. They are ugly and they annoy me.” “What does she say?” asked the officer. Stewart was certain that at least one of them knew English, so he judged it best to translate literally. “She wants to know what is the matter,” he answered. “She asks me to tell you to go away—that you annoy her.”
Prev.
Back
Top