The car stopped close beside him. He held his handkerchief to his nose,
covering half his face as he looked up.
'Are you hurt, Monsieur?' Margaret asked anxiously in French.
'On the contrary, Mademoiselle,' Lushington answered through the
handkerchief, and it sounded as if he had a bad cold in the head.
'I am afraid----' Margaret began, and then stopped suddenly, staring at
him.
'You were on the wrong side of the road, Monsieur,' said Logotheti in
an assertive tone.
'Perfectly,' assented Lushington, holding his nose and turning half
away.
'Then it was your fault,' observed Logotheti.
'Precisely,' admitted the other. 'Pray don't stop. It's of no
consequence!' But he had betrayed himself unconsciously, in the most natural way. His
spectacles were gone, and by covering the lower part of his face with
his handkerchief he had entirely concealed the very great change made
by shaving his beard and moustache. While he and Logotheti had been
speaking, Margaret had scrutinised his features and had made sure of
the truth. Then she believed that she would have recognised him by his
voice alone. Between the emotion that followed the accident and the
extreme anxiety his position caused him, the perspiration stood in
beads on his forehead. Margaret smiled maliciously, for she remembered
how often they had passed him on the road, and realised in an instant
that he had disguised himself to watch her doings. He should pay for
that.
'You look hot,' she observed in English, fixing her eyes on him
severely.
He blushed to the roots of his hair, though he had been rather pale.
Logotheti, whose only preoccupation hitherto had been to get away as
soon as possible, now stared at him, too. Margaret's tone and her
sudden change to the use of English did the rest. He recognised
Lushington, but remembered that he himself was completely disguised in
his chauffeur's dress and mask; so he said nothing.
Lushington writhed under Margaret's eyes for a moment; but then his
English courage and coolness suddenly returned, the colour subsided
from his face and his expression hardened, as far as the necessary
handkerchief permitted her to see it.
'Yes,' he said, 'I'm Lushington. I can only repeat that the accident
happened by my fault. I'm used to taking the left side in England and I
lost my head. Monsieur Logotheti need not have run away, for it would
never have occurred to me to make a complaint.' He looked straight at Logotheti's goggles as he spoke, and Margaret
began to feel uncomfortable.
'I supposed that you had recognised me,' observed the Greek coldly.
'That is, no doubt, why you have taken the trouble to disguise yourself
and watch me of late.' 'That was the reason,' answered Lushington, facing his adversary, but
conscious that the necessity for holding his nose put him at a
disadvantage as to his dignity.