D by George Right

Author:George Right
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 1482744120
Publisher: George Right
Published: 2013-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

HOUSE

"Monsieur, Count de Montreux wants to see you."

Jacques Dubois fastidiously frowned.

"Tell him that I can't receive him."

But the visitor, having resolutely moved the servant out of his way, had already entered the office. The thin lines of his thoroughbred face, a faultless suit, the subtle scent of an expensive lotion–everything about him spoke of his belonging to an old noble family which had nothing in common with the just-bought baronies of the nouveau riche; such attributes are formed by centuries. Even now de Montreux carried himself with dignity which did not well match the purpose of his visit.

"If you came to ask for a delay, count, you are wasting time," Dubois stated. "The term of your mortgage has expired, you haven't paid the money, and the house becomes mine by right."

"Nobody challenges your rights, monsieur," de Montreux answered, "I only ask you to understand my position. My ancestors lived in this house throughout three centuries. I understand your desire to obtain a fine old mansion and you are rich enough to do it. But besides my estate, there are others..."

"I like yours; let's finish with this."

"Monsieur Dubois, I'm not asking you to cancel my debts. You will receive the money, only a bit later, as soon as my circumstances recover..."

"Your circumstances will never recover and if you don't understand that, you're even a bigger fool than I thought."

"How dare you to speak to me that way!"

"I dare, Monsieur Armand Philippe Count de Montreux! I, the pitiful insignificant commoner on whose ancestors your ancestors could set the dogs just for entertainment, now speak with you as I like, and you will listen to me! You ruled France throughout centuries, gambled away huge fortunes out of boredom, and arranged Caligula-style orgies. You possessed everything–power, honor, women–but now your time is gone! You stupidly squandered the wealth stolen by your ancestors in crusades and feudal wars and wasted the life earnings extorted from those who earned their bread by the sweat of their brow–and now power has passed from you to those who actually deserve it. The third estate is everything, have you heard those words? In your aristocratic arrogance you didn't wish to lift a finger to save the situation; you despised commerce–oh certainly, to ply a trade is much less honorable than to rape peasant girls. Look at yourself, Count de Montreux! Even now, having reached utter ruin, you spend your last few francs on expensive suits and lotions! No, I feel not the slightest remorse taking your house from you. I receive it justly, I pay for it with money honestly earned, not inherited from a court lickspittle or from a robber in knight's armor."

The face of the count turned pale, his hand squeezed the knob of his cane, but de Montreux restrained himself. He turned abruptly and went back to the door. On the threshold he stopped and said almost indifferently:

"You will have no rest in my house. Neither you, nor your whore." Then he promptly left.

"Whore," thought Dubois, grinning, "yes, whore, so what? You'd think that his aristocratic maidens are pure virgins.

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