I assume that you will remain until after the investigation."
Pfyfe's studied and habitual calm gave way to a look of oily astonishment.
"I hadn't contemplated doing so."
"It would be most desirable—if you could arrange it," urged Markham; though I am sure he had no intention of making the request until Vance suggested it.
Pfyfe hesitated, and then made an elegant gesture of resignation.
"Certainly I shall remain. When you have further need of my services, you will find me at the Ansonia."
He spoke with exalted condescension, and magnanimously conferred upon Markham a parting smile. But the smile did not spring from within. It appeared to have been adjusted upon his features by the unseen hands of a sculptor; and it affected only the muscles about his mouth.
When he had gone Vance gave Markham a look of suppressed mirth.
"'Elegancy, facility and golden cadence.' . . . But put not your faith in poesy, old dear. Our Ciceronian friend is an unmitigated fashioner of deceptions."
"If you're trying to say that he's a smooth liar," remarked Heath, "I don't agree with you. I think that story about the Captain's threat is straight goods."
"Oh, that! Of course, it's true. . . . And, y' know, Markham, the knightly Mr. Pfyfe was frightfully disappointed when you didn't insist on his
