And you only met her on the
train? Old Azarian told me you knew her intimately."
"Azarian!" I was groping round in the fog now.
"Yes--your room-mate. He is an Armenian and one of the richest bankers
in Russia. He lends money to the Czar. His brother got on with you at
Cologne. There they go together to look after their luggage--they have
an agency here, although their main bank is in St. Petersburg. The
brother had the compartment next to that woman, with the big dog. She is
the wife of a rich brewer in Cologne, and just think--we must always
give that brute a compartment when she travels. Is it not outrageous? It
is against the rules, but the orders come from up above"--and he jerked
his finger meaningly over his shoulder.
The fog was so thick now I could cut it with a knife.
"One moment, please," I said, and I laid my hand on his elbow and
looked him searchingly in the eye. I intended now to clear things up.
"Was there a circus troupe on the train last night?"
"No." The answer came quite simply, and I could see it was the truth.
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