The barber, now for the first time, allowed his features to relax. “And you would like something to drink?” he asked slowly, and as if some idea were forming in his mind.
“Not rum!” exclaimed the Frenchman, at once beginning to look very suspicious.
“No, good wine,” replied Voisin. “I have some here.”
And so, a couple of minutes later, the two were drinking in quite a friendly fashion in the inner room.
“And where were you working, Monsieur Nation?” asked Voisin presently, “before you lost your job?”
“Here in London,” replied the Frenchman promptly, “at the Semiris Hotel. I was under-chef there, and should have been full chef soon, if my enemies had not conspired against me.”
“So, so,” said Voisin sympathetically, “you made enemies, did you?”
“Yes, and they brought false accusations
