CHAPTER XXV
CARDS ON THE TABLE
A rickety table had been drawn against the wall of the teakwood room. On two boxes, facing each other across this table, sat John Donovan and Monsey. A guard stood at the door. Near the stove Edith had seated herself, with Abbas at her side.
"And so you want to know what I am doing with this woman in the castle?" Monsey stroked his mustache complacently and surveyed his visitor. Donovan had hardly looked at Edith. He sat erect, hands clasped over crossed knees. He had been released from the bandage and his tranquil gaze searched the opposite wall, without in the least attempting to watch his enemy.
"Well, I will tell you." Monsey rested solid shoulders against the teakwood, his nervous hand straying about the revolver holster. "It's none of your damn business."
Lower lip thrust out, eyes narrowed, he surveyed Donovan. Monsey, also, had guessed that his enemy came to the Kurgan hoping that he would not be recognized.
"Suppose," ventured Donovan, "I should make it so?"
"Oh, fine words. Tell me who you are and what you want."
He smiled, hoping to hear Donovan lie. It rather
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