CHAPTER IV
OUT OF HARM’S WAY
Lamus’s motor was at the door. Maisie sprang to
the wheel and drove off without saying a word. I
shivered at her side, filled with inexplicable qualms.
The exaltation of the cocaine had completely left me.
It seemed to increase my nervousness; and yet I
resorted to it again and again during the short drive.
When we got to the studio, Lala was sitting as usual
at the desk, but Lamus was walking up and down the
room with his hands behind his back; his head bowed
in thought so deep that he seemed not to notice our
arrival. Lou had not removed her furs. She was
standing like a statue in the middle of the room. The
only sign of life was that her face continually flushed
from white to red and back again. Her eyes were
closed. For some reason or other she reminded me of
a criminal awaiting sentence.
Lamus stopped short in his stride and shook hands
with me. —
“Take your things off, and sit down, Sir Peter,’’ he
said brusquely. His manner was completely different
from anything I’d ever seen in him. He turned away
and flung himself into a chair, searched in his pockets
for an old black pipe, filled it and lit it. He seemed the
prey of a peculiar agitation. That again was utterly
unlike him. He cleared his throat and got up, with
an entire change of behaviour. He offered me one of
his millionaire cigars and motioned to Lala to get me
a drink.
“‘ This is the latest fashion in the studio,” said Lala
gaily. She was obviously trying to relieve the tension.
‘* Basil invented it last night. We call it Kubla Khan
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