Why had the Baron wished him to stay in the camp of Diane?
.

.

.

What was the portent of his peculiar interest anyway?
Philip sighed.
"Do you know, Nero," he confided suddenly, patting the dog's shaggy head, "my life is developing certain elements of intrigue and mystery exceedingly offensive to my spread-eagle tastes.

There's a knife and a bullet now, Johnny's two men and the auto, and a cuff and a most mysterious link between our lady and the Baron.