The Prince smiled. All his white teeth were showing.

"Come," he said, "you know better than--much better than that. Lucille
must wait her release. You know that."

"I will buy it," Mr. Sabin said, "with a lie to the manager here, or I
will tell the truth and still take her from you."

The Prince stood upon the topmost step of the balcony. Below was the
palm court, with many little groups of people dotted about.

"My dear friend," he said, "Duson died absolutely of his own free will.
You know that quite well. We should have preferred that the matter had
been otherwise arranged. But as it is we are safe, absolutely safe."

"Duson's letter!" Mr. Sabin remarked.

"You will not show it," the Prince answered. "You cannot. You have kept
it too long. And, after all, you cannot escape from the main fact. Duson
committed suicide."

"He was incited to murder. His letter proves it."

The Prince shrugged his shoulders.

"By whom? Ah, how your story would excite ridicule. I seem to hear the
laughter now. No, my dear Souspennier, you would bargain for me with
Lucille. Look below. Are we likely to part with her just yet?"

In a corner, behind a gigantic palm, Lucille and Brott were talking
together. Lady Carey had drawn Opperman a little distance away. Brott
was talking eagerly, his cheeks flushed, his manner earnest. Mr. Sabin
turned upon his heel and walked away.

CHAPTER XXXII

Mr. Sabin, although he had registered at the hotel under his accustomed
pseudonym, had taken no pains to conceal his identity, and was well
known to the people in authority about the place. He was received with
all the respect due to his rank.

"Your Grace will, I trust, accept my most sincere apologies for
disturbing you," Mr. Hertz, the manager, said, rising and bowing at his
entrance. "We have here, however, an emissary connected with the police
come to inquire into the sad incident of this afternoon. He expressed a
wish to ask your Grace a question or two with a view to rendering your
Grace's attendance at the inquest unnecessary."

Mr. Sabin nodded.

"I am perfectly willing," he said, "to answer any questions you may
choose to put to me."

A plain, hard-featured little man, in a long black overcoat, and holding
a bowler hat in his hand, bowed respectfully to Mr. Sabin.

"I am much obliged to you, sir," he said. "My name is John Passmore.
We do not of course appear in this matter unless the post-mortem should
indicate anything