Draconmeyer insisted.

Hunterleys took a cigarette from his case, tapped it upon the table and
lit it in leisurely fashion.

"If you have any idea," he said, "that I came here to confront my wife,
or to interfere in any way with her movements, let me assure you that
you are mistaken. I had no idea that Lady Hunterleys was in Monte Carlo.
I am here because I have a six months' holiday, and a holiday for the
average Englishman between January and April generally means, as you
must be aware, the Riviera. I have tried Bordighera and San Remo. I have
found them, as I no doubt shall find this place, wearisome. In the end I
suppose I shall drift back to London."

Mr. Draconmeyer frowned.

"You left London," he remarked tersely, "on December first. It is to-day
February twentieth. Do you wish me to understand that you have been at
Bordighera and San Remo all that time?"

"How did you know when I left London?" Hunterleys demanded.

Mr. Draconmeyer pursed his lips.

"I heard of your departure from London entirely by accident," he said.
"Your wife, for some reason or other, declined to discuss your
movements. I imagine that she was acting in accordance with your
wishes."

"I see," Hunterleys observed coolly. "And your present anxiety is to
know where I spent the intervening time, and why I am here in Monte
Carlo? Frankly, Mr. Draconmeyer, I look upon this close interest in my
movements as an impertinence. My travels have been of no importance, but
they concern myself only. I have no confidence to offer respecting them.
If I had, it would not be to you that I should unburden myself."

"You suspect me, then? You doubt my integrity?"

"Not at all," Hunterleys assured his questioner. "For anything I know to
the contrary, you are, outside the world of finance, one of the dullest
and most harmless men existing. My own position is simply as I explained
it during the first few sentences we exchanged. I do not like you, I
detest my wife's name being associated with yours, and for that reason,
the less I see of you the better I am pleased."

Mr. Draconmeyer nodded thoughtfully. He was, to all appearance, studying
the pattern of the carpet. For once in his life he was genuinely
puzzled. Was this man by his side merely a jealous husband, or had he
any idea of the greater game which was being played around them? Had he,
by any chance, arrived to take part in it? Was it wise, in any case, to
pursue the subject further? Yet if he ab