"You know, messieurs, I am not a woman given to
hallucinations. I _saw_ ... And I tell you, while that assassin is at
liberty aboard this yacht, not one of our lives is worth a sou--no, not
one!"
"Oh, you shall have your search." Monk gave in as one who indulges a
childish whim. "But I can tell you now what we'll find--or won't."
"Then Heaven help us all!" Liane went swiftly to the door of her room,
but there hesitated, looking back in appeal to Lanyard. "I am
afraid...."
"Let me have a look round first."
And when Lanyard had satisfied himself there was nobody concealed in
any part of Liane's suite, and had been rewarded with a glance of
gratitude--"I shall lock myself in, of course," the woman said from the
threshold--"and I have my pistol, too."
"But I assure you," Monk commented in heavy sarcasm, "our intentions
are those of honourable men."
The door slammed, and the sound of the key turning in the lock
followed. Monk trained the eyebrows into a look of long-suffering
patience.
"A glass too much... Seein' things!"
"No," Lanyard voiced shortly his belief; "you are wrong.
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