Of the
fact that his friend was close beside him he remained unaware until,
on the corner of old Bond Street, a firm grip settled upon his
shoulder. Gray turned angrily. But the grip was immovable, and he
found himself staring into the unemotional face of Seton Pasha.
"Seton, for God's sake, don't detain me! I must learn what's wrong."
"Pull up, Gray."
Quentin Gray clenched his teeth.
"Listen to me, Seton. This is no time for interference. I--"
"You are about to become involved in some very unsavory business; and
I repeat--pull up. In a moment we shall learn all there is to be
learned. But are you determined openly to thrust yourself into the
family affairs of Mr. Monte Irvin?"
"If anything has happened to Rita I'll kill that damned cur Pyne!"
"You are determined to intrude upon this man in your present frame of
mind at a time of evident trouble?"
But Gray was deaf to the promptings of prudence and good taste alike.
"I'm going to see the thing through," he said hoarsely.
"Quite so. Rely upon me. But endeavor to behave more like a man of the
world and less like a dangerous lunatic, or we shall quarrel
atrociously."
Quentin Gray audibly gnashed his teeth, but the cool stare of the
other's eyes was quelling, and now as their glances met and clashed, a
sympathetic smile softened the lines of Seton's grim mouth, and:
"I quite understand, old chap," he said, linking his arm in Gray's.
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