But I hadn't expected the dog. Suppose you
put your right hand up."
I shook my head.
"I want that for my cigarette," I said.
For a moment we stood looking at one another. Then my fat _vis-a-vis_
began to shake with laughter.
"You know," he gurgled, "this is most irregular. It's enough to make
Jack Sheppard turn in his grave. It is really. However.... As an
inveterate smoker, I feel for you. So we'll have a compromise." He
nodded towards an armchair which stood by the window. "You go and sit
down in that extremely comfortable armchair--sit well back--and we won't
say any more about the hands."
As he spoke, he stepped forward. Nobby received him with a venomous
growl, and to my amazement the fellow immediately caressed him.
"Dogs always take to me," he added. "I'm sure I don't know why, but it's
a great help."
To my mortification, the Sealyham proved to be no exception to the rule.
I could feel his tail going.
As in a dream, I crossed to the chair and sat down. As I moved, the
pistol moved also.
"I hate pointing this thing at you," said the late speaker. "It's so
suggestive. If you'd care to give me your word, you know.... Between
gentlemen...."
"I make no promises," I snapped.
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