But it stood
incongruously round the corner, in a mean side street, as if anxious to
escape observation; its juxtaposition to the door of a wine shop of the
lowest class was noticeable in a car of such high caste; and, what was
finally damning, the rat-faced man of Lyons was lounging in the door of
the wine shop, sucking at a cigarette and watching the traffic with an
all too listless eye shaded by the visor of a shabby cap.
Lanyard said nothing at the time, but later, when a long stretch of
straight road gave him the chance, verified his suspicions by looking
back to see the grey car lurking not less than a mile and a half
astern; the Delorme touring car driven by Leon keeping a quarter of a
mile in the rear of the limousine.
These relative positions remained approximately unchanged during most
of the light hours of that long evening, despite the terrific pace
which Jules set in the open country. Lanyard, keeping an eye on the
indicator, saw its hand register the equivalent of sixty English miles
an hour more frequently than not. It seldom dropped below fifty except
when passing through towns or villages.
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