all talk St. George had a restful, host-like way of playing the rôle
of opposite to every one who preferred being heard.

"I'll wager the boy hasn't been reading the papers these three
months," Amory opined in his pleasant drawl.

"No," St. George confessed; "no, I haven't. They make me homesick."

"Don't maunder," said Chillingworth in polite criticism. "This is
Amory's story, and only about a quarter of the facts yet," he added
in a resentful growl. "It's up at the Boris, in West Fifty-ninth
Street--you know the apartment house? A Miss Holland, an heiress,
living there with her aunt, was attacked and nearly murdered by a
mulatto woman. The woman followed her to the elevator and came
uncomfortably near stabbing her from the back. The elevator boy was
too quick for her. And at the station they couldn't get the woman to
say a word; she pretends not to understand or to speak anything
they've tried. She's got Amory hypnotized too--he thinks she can't.
And when they searched her," went on Chillingworth with enjoyment,
"they found her dressed in silk and cloth of gold, and loaded down
with all sorts of barbarous ornaments, with almost priceless jewels.
Miss Holland claims that she never saw or heard of the woman before.
Now, what do you make of it?" he demanded, unconcernedly draining
his glass.

"Splendid," cried St. George in unfeigned interest. "I say,
splendid. Did you see the woman?" he asked Amory.

Amory nodded.