Of course you'll pretend you don't, so to save time I'll tell you.

What have you done with Monty ?" Da Souza spread outwards the palms of his hands.

He spoke with well-affected impatience.
"Monty! always Monty! What do I want with him?
It is you who should look after him, not I." Trent turned quietly round and locked the door.

Da Souza would have called out, but a paroxysm of fear had seized him.

His fat, white face was pallid, and his knees were shaking.