Then Captain Claiborne's eyes fell upon the table and rested idly on John Armitage's cigarette case--on the smoothly-worn gold of the surface, on the snowy falcon and the silver helmet on which the bird poised.

He started slightly, then tossed his napkin carelessly on the table so that it covered the gold trinket completely.
"Gentlemen," he said, "if we are going to show ourselves at the Darlington ball we'll have to run along." Below, in the coat room, Claiborne was fastening the frogs of his military overcoat when Armitage, who had waited for the opportunity, spoke to him.
"That story is a lie, Claiborne.

That man never saw me or my cigarette case in Berlin; and moreover, I was never at Bar Harbor in my life.

I gave you some account of myself on the _King Edward_--every word of it is true." "You should face him--you must have it out with him!" exclaimed Claiborne, and Armitage saw the conflict and uncertainty in the officer's eyes.
"But the time hasn't come for that--" "Then if there is something between you,"-- began Claiborne, the doubt now clearly dominant.
"There is undoubtedly a great deal between us, and there will be more before we reach the end." Dick Claiborne was a perfectly frank, outspoken fellow, and this hint of mystery by a man whose character had just been boldly assailed angered him.
"Good God, man! I know as much about Chauvenet as I do about you.

This thing is ugly, as you must see.