The Emperor's Snuff-Box

The Emperor's Snuff-Box

Author:John Dickson Carr [Carr, John Dickson]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Harper
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Toby found his voice. ‘You wrote her a note . . .?’ he began in a dazed voice.

Prue paid no attention to him, beyond giving him an absent - mindedly affectionate smile. Her real business was with Eve. ‘I ask him please if he will give me this compensation, so that we can part friends. I wish him well. I congratulate him on his marriage. But he puts me off, saying that he is hard up.’

Prue’s glance showed what she thought of this. ‘Then his papa dies. That is very sad,’ - Prue looked honestly concerned, - ‘and for almost a week I do not trouble him, except to express my sympathy. Besides, he says that as his papa’s heir he will now be able to deal generously with me. But mark! Only yesterday he says that his papa’s affairs of business are in a mess; that there is not much money; and that my neighbor, M. Veille the art dealer, presses for payment on a broken snuff - box costing, incredible to imagine, seven hundred and fifty thousand francs.’

‘This note . . . ‘ Toby began.

Still Prue addressed herself to Eve. ‘Yes, I wrote it,’ she acknowledged. ‘My sister Yvette does not know that I wrote it. It is an idea of my own.’

‘Why did you write it?’ said Eve.

‘Madame, can you ask?’

‘I do ask.’

‘To anyone of sensibility,’ said Prue, with pouting reproach, ‘it is apparent.’ She went over and smoothed Toby’s hair. ‘I am very fond of this poor Tobee . . . ‘

The gentleman in question jumped to his feet.

‘And, faith, I am not rich. Though I think you will admit,’ explained Prue, teetering on her toes to survey herself complacently in the mirror over the fireplace, ‘that I turn myself out rather well for all that. Hem?’

‘Beautifully!’

‘Well! Madame is rich, or so they tell me. Surely persons of sensibility, of refinement, should comprehend these things without diagrams?’

‘I still don’t . . . ‘

‘Madame wishes to marry my poor Tobee. Desolated as I am to lose him, I am what you call a good sport. I am independent. I interfere with nobody. But in these things, voyons, it is necessary to be practical. Therefore if madame herself would consent to make some small compensation, I am sure that matters could be adjusted with the best will in the world.’

Again there was a long silence. ‘Why does madame start to laugh?’ demanded Prue, in a different and sharper voice.

‘I beg your pardon. I wasn’t laughing. That is - not really. May I sit down?’

‘But of course! How I am forgetting my manners! Here: have this chair. It is Tobee’s favorite.’

All the scarlet of embarrassment, and mortification at being caught here, had faded out of Toby’s face. He no longer resembled such a seething picture of guilt, dazed - eyed like a boxer at the end of the fifteenth round, that you wanted to slap him on the back and say, ‘it’s all right, old man.’

He still carried himself stiffly.



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