Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely. As a matter of fact I have been waiting for you. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. " "I'll have no explanations whatever," replied the carpenter, disdainfully, "except before a magistrate. But he was wide awake. ‘Assuredly it is locked up. .
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