Chapter 20
The Devil’s AuctionI said as little as possible
during the drive homeward.
My companion was equally silent. No doubt he, like myself, was
bracing himself for a duel of wits.
As soon as we were safe in my private room at the hotel, with a
bottle of vodka and a box of cigars in front of us, I opened the
discussion with my habitual directness.
“I need not tell you, M. Auguste, that I have not invited you
here to discuss questions of psychology. I am a politician, and it
matters nothing to me whether I am dealing with a ghost or a man,
provided I can make myself understood.”
M. Auguste bowed.
“For instance, it is quite clear that the interesting
revelations we have had to-night would not have been made without
your good will. It is to be presumed, therefore, that if
