THIS second blow left Jean d’Enneris at any rate outwardly unmoved. He raged not, though a flood of terrible cold anger surged through his whole being.
He looked at his watch and found it was seven o’clock.
“Time for dinner,” he said, “and I spy a little eating-house across the road. At eight o’clock we go into action. Food first.”
“Why not act now?” Béchoux wanted to know.
They sat down at a corner table, among the rougher class of shop assistant and a sprinkling of taxi-drivers.
“Why not?” said d’Enneris. “Because I’m all wumbled. I’ve been trusting to luck, and trying to guard against all the possibilities. But I’ve been a bit too late on each count, and now I’m tired out with missing the bus. I must take stock of all that’s happened and try to work it out. Why did Fagerault make R
