"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 288 - Merry Mrs.MacBeth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

Napoleonic fashion.

Even Terry Dundee felt uneasy in this presence.

No special characteristic of Thurland gave him that singular importance. There was nothing formidable
about thin, sleek hair, carefully parted above a rounded face that wore a perpetual half-smile. Thurland's
eyes were mild, in a way inquiring, with their lazy lids that lifted only on occasion.

However, when added, those features formed a whole which by its very lack of individual strength
precluded all notion of weakness. Somehow Dundee's self-assurance was always deflated when he met
with Thurland. Subtly, almost accidentally, Thurland made such visitors worry, giving him an immediate
edge.

What jarred Dundee on this occasion was the fact that Thurland hadn't bolted the private door.

All Thurland had done was drop the big plush curtain hiding the door's alcove. That gesture meant that he
expected the conference to be brief.

"I was around at the Half Moon," began Dundee, rapidly. "The set-up is just like I figured. Harthorne is
chucking a barrel of coin on account of the Trevose jane.

Thurland's eyelids lifted for more.

"Vera Scharn is the stand-in," continued Dundee, "and she'll have to play the lead if Joy Trevose misses
many more rehearsals. Joy's boyfriend, Alan Fenway, is about nine-tenths off the beam. He hasn't any
understudy so he can't keep tabs on Joy and Harthorne. Every afternoon he's tossing woo at a balcony
ghost, if that's any consolation."

Whether Thurland enjoyed this thumb-nail description, he didn't reveal. His lips kept the same smile, but
his eyes gave a brief turn toward the curtained doorway. Fearing that the interview might be clipped
short, Dundee gave a nervous glance in that direction too.

What Dundee saw made him blink and squint more closely. Terry could have sworn that the plush curtain
stirred just as he looked at it.

The great maroon drape was motionless on second glance, and it didn't occur to Dundee that the weight
of those massive folds was responsible. Dundee took it that the curtain hadn't moved at all and wrote off
the illusion as another evidence of the somewhat hypnotic effect that Thurland's presence induced.

True to form, Thurland helped the cause along with one of his customary dry remarks.

"Don't worry, Terry." The tone was a bit caustic. "Nobody knows that we do business--or do they?"

"There's one guy might," returned Dundee. "He knows about everything that isn't his business, so they tell
me."

Inquiry showed in Thurland's eyes.

"I mean The Shadow." put Dundee abruptly. "He's made trouble for a few of my friends and not so long
ago, either."