could you keep the noise down, please?
a deep growl emerged from the dark corner of the room.
perhaps you would like to elaborate on that request?
i do not recall your being authorized to question me in that manner.
harrison and inchbald had quarreled before.
captain davis, the secretary of the club, had warned them in the sternest manner that their nonsense would no longer be tolerated.
suffice to say, the warnings had gone unheeded, but had heretofore been confined to dark grumblings and mumblings.
but the fat was in the fire now.
harrison stood up.
i expect you know what has to be done, he expostulated.
just what do you mean by that? inchbald replied with disquieting mildness.
samarkand, harrison responded vigorously.
oh, come now, inchbald laughed. you could not find samarkand on the map.
quite the master of the deflating remark, aren’t you, old fellow?
as i may have mentioned before, i am not your old fellow. any more than i am your humble servant.
this is all rather exhausting, woggins interjected from beside the fire. if you two comedians wish to continue your inane jabbering, please do so offstage.
the masks fell off harrison and inchbald simultaneously, and they regarded woggins with undisguised loathing.
what exactly are you insinuating? harrison demanded of woggins.
woggins withdrew from the conflict like a terrapin into its shell, and ostentatiously put his copy of the times up in front of his face.
it seemed at that point that the whole sorry affair was finished.
but more was to come.
later that day, a mysterious package wrapped in brown paper was delivered to the club.
later, an investigation revealed nothing.
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