As it is--"
"I dislike violence and ferocity of every sort as much as you do," Mr.
Jones declared, looking very languid as he leaned against the wall, but
speaking fairly loud. "You can ask my Martin if it is not so. This, Mr.
Heyst, is a soft age. It is also an age without prejudices. I've heard
that you are free from them yourself. You mustn't be shocked if I tell
you plainly that we are after your money--or I am, if you prefer to make
me alone responsible. Pedro, of course, knows no more of it than
any other animal would. Ricardo is of the faithful-retainer
class--absolutely identified with all my ideas, wishes, and even whims!"
Mr Jones pulled his left hand out of his pocket, got a handkerchief out
of another, and began to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, neck,
and chin. The excitement from which he suffered made his breathing
visible. In his long dressing-gown he had the air of a convalescent
invalid who had imprudently overtaxed his strength. Heyst,
broad-shouldered, robust, watched the operation from the end of the camp
bedstead, very calm, his hands on his knees.
"And by the by," he asked, "where is he now, that henchman of yours?
Breaking into my desk?"
"That would be crude. Still, crudeness is one of life's conditions."
There was the slightest flavour of banter in the tone of Ricardo's
governor.
Pages:
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446