The whole thing, the sad twilight of the place, her tone of voice, seemed tinged with unavailing regret.

I had almost forgotten the Dimensionist story, and I had never believed in it.

But now, for the first time I began to have my doubts.

I was certain that she had been plotting _something_ with one of the Duc de Mersch's lieutenants.

The man's manner vouched for that; he had not been able to look me in the face.