.

Will one of you give me a cigarette ?" Devar produced a case, and in response to Steingall's nod, offered its contents to the prisoner, who took two cigarettes; nor could he be prevailed on to accept more.

Despite his hang-dog looks he had an undoubted air of refinement.

Degeneracy had claimed him as its own, yet some streak of a nobler heredity had struggled to exert its influence, only to fail.
Steingall put no more questions, and Lamotte relapsed into silence, smoking nonchalantly while the police captain's pen was scratching a transcript of the shorthand notes.
Curtis caught Steingall's eye, and drew him aside.
"That fellow told the truth about the actual murder, I think" he said.
"My story coincides with his in every detail." "I'm sure you are right," agreed the detective.

"The odd thing is that Clancy should have spotted him from your description telephoned to headquarters.