CHAPTER XXXII 

MORRISON IS DESPERATE 

Certainly it was a strange little gathering that waited in Morrison's room for the coming of Laverick. There was Lassen--flushed, ugly, breathing heavily, and watching the door with fixed, beady eyes. There was Adolf Kahn, the man who had strolled out from the Milan Hotel as Laverick had entered it, leaving the forged order behind him. There was Streuss--stern, and desperate with anxiety. There was Morrison himself, in the clothes of a workman, worn to a shadow, with the furtive gleam of terrified guilt shining in his sunken eyes, and the slouched shoulders and broken mien of the habitual criminal. There was Zoe, around whom they were all standing, with anger burning in her cheeks and gleaming out of her passion-filled eyes. She, too, like the others, watched the door. So they waited. 

Streuss, not for the first time, moved to the window and drawing aside the curtains looked down into the street. 

"Will he come--this Englishman?" he muttered. "Has he courage?" 

"More courage than you who keep a girl here against her will!" Zoe panted, looking at him defiantly. "More courage than my poor brother, who stands there like a coward!" 

"Shut up, Zoe!" Morrison exclaimed harshly. "There is nothing for you to be furious about or frightened. No one wants to ill-treat you. These gentlemen all want to behave kindly to us. It is Laverick they want." 

"And you," she cried, "are content to stand by and let him walk into a trap--you let them even use my name to bring him here! Arthur, be a man! Have nothing more to do with them. Help me to get away from this place. Call out. Do something instead of standing there and wasting the precious minutes." 
How was Morrison dressed?
in the clothes of a workman