Though he had been dancing furiously, there was not a single bead of perspiration upon his forehead.
"You are in good condition, my friend," Selingman observed admiringly.
"I need to be for my work," Coulois replied.

"Let us get to business.
There is no need to mince words.

What do you want with me?
Who is the quarry ?" "The man who ruined your little affair at La Turbie and captured your comrade Martin," Selingman whispered.

"You see, you have every provocation to start with." Coulois' eyes glittered.
"He was an Englishman," he muttered.
"Quite true," Selingman assented.

"His name is Hunterleys--Sir Henry Hunterleys.