But both he and Nevill had come to think
that the case was not simple, and they were lenient with Roslin. "I hope
I'm not conceited," Stephen defended himself, "but I do feel that I can
at least keep my end up against this nigger, anyhow till the game's
played out so far that he can't stop it."
"And till I'm in it with you," Nevill finished. "By the way, that
reminds me. Some one else intends to play the game with us, whether we
like or not."
"Who?" asked Stephen, surprised and half defiant.
"My aunt. That's the mystery she was hinting at. You know how
unnaturally quiet she was while we arranged that you should look after
Maieddine, on your own, till the dinner-party was over, anyhow, and I
could get off, on a wire from you--wherever you might be?"
"Yes. She seemed interested."
"And busy. Her 'great work' was getting herself ready to follow you with
me, in the car."
"Magnificent!" said Stephen. "And like her. Hurrah for Lady MacGregor!"
"I'm glad you take it that way. I wasn't sure you would, which might
have made things awkward for me; because when my aunt wants to do a
thing, you know by this time as well as I do, it's as good as done."
"But it's splendid--if she can stand the racket. Of course her idea is,
that if we find Miss Ray she oughtn't to come back alone with us,
perhaps a long way, from some outlandish hole."
"You've got it. That's her argument. Or rather, her mandate.
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