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A murder at a country house embroils its weekend guests in an international regicide, while a famous jewel thief may be lurking among them.

Page 324 of 339
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XXIX

Little Captain Andrassy sprang up.

“But this is incredible⁠—incredible,” he spluttered. “Have a care, sir, what you say.”

“I can give you plenty of proofs,” said Anthony quietly. “I think I shall be able to convince the Baron here.”

The Baron lifted his hand.

“Your proofs I will examine, yes. But of them for me there is no need. Your word alone sufficient for me is. Besides, your English mother you much resemble. All along have I said: ‘This young man on one side or the other most highly born is.’ ”

“You have always trusted my word, Baron,” said Anthony. “I can assure you that in the days to come I shall not forget.”

Then he looked over at Superintendent Battle whose face had remained perfectly expressionless.

“You can understand,” said Anthony with a smile, “that my position has been extremely precarious. Of all those in the house I might be supposed to have the best reason for wishing Michael Obolovitch out of the way, since I was the next heir to the throne. I’ve been extraordinarily afraid of Battle all along. I always felt that he suspected me, but that he was held up by lack of motive.”

“I never believed for a minute that you’d shot him, sir,” said Superintendent Battle. “We’ve got a feeling in such matters. But I knew that you were afraid of something, and you puzzled me. If I’d known sooner who you really were, I dare say I’d have yielded to the evidence, and arrested you.”

“I’m glad I managed to keep one guilty secret from you. You wormed everything else out of me all right. You’re a damned good man at your

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