MR. GLUCKSTEIN IN CONFIDENCE
Mrs. Astley-Rolfe invariably received her creditors in pink deshabille.
The financier, Mr. Solomon Gluckstein, original and senior
representative of John Brown & Co., Jermyn Street, was particularly fond
of pink, and extremely susceptible to deshabille. Whiskey-and-soda,
personally prepared for him in sufficient strength by his charming
debtor, increased the fondness and the susceptibility.
"Ma tear lady," said Mr. Gluckstein, with desperate firmness, "I have
come on an unplethant errand."
Mrs. Astley-Rolfe pouted petulantly.
"Am I to have no peace?" she complained, from an alluring attitude on a
couch. "Isn't it enough to have gone through the last two days? Look at
me. I am a nervous wreck."
"Then all women wouldth with to be nervouth wrecks," said Mr. Gluckstein
gallantly.
"I believe that odious detective actually imagined at the beginning that
I might have murdered the poor girl."
"Nonthenth," the financier assured her.
"I have scarcely had any sleep," she went on reproachfully. "It is a
wonder I am not thoroughly ill. And now you--from whom I should have
expected consideration--come here with a face like a rock, and announce
your intention to be unpleasant. If I didn't know you so well, I might
have believed you."
Mr. Gluckstein glanced towards the door, and drew his chair closer to
her.
"Let us understand each other," he said deliberately. "At the present
time you owe me a large thum of money."
"Gospel truth," she admitted.
"Very much more than you could pothibly pay, if I came down on you."
She uttered a sigh of relief.
"At last you realize that!" she exclaimed thankfully.
"Also," continued Mr. Gluckstein, "you owe money to various other
people."
"Your veracity," she confessed, "is beyond question."
"Almosth ath much ath you owe to me."
"Quite as much," she said cheerfully.
"And you owe me," he continued--"twelve thousand poundth."
"The first time I have looked the evil fully in the face," she
shuddered.
His small eyes regarded her intently.
"The last half of that--I lent to you on a certain understanding."
"Understanding?" she echoed languidly.
"Yeth."
"What did you understand?"
"That you intended to become engaged to George Copplesthone, who would
pay your debths when you married him."
A quick change swept over her. She became hard and calculating.
"Well?" she returned.
"You have not become engaged to him."
"No."
"Some one elth became engaged to him."
"Yes," she said calmly.
"That doth not look," he concluded, "like fulfillment of the
understanding."
"Doesn't it?" she retorted.
He glanced again at the door, and came still closer.
"Lithen," he said slowly. "I have been your friendth. I have done for
you what I would not have done for any one elth. I have treated you
fairly, and I have never prethed you."
She softened immediately.
"You have been very kind to me," she said gratefully.
"You muth be my friendth too. I muth tell you my thecret. Promith me
faithfully that you will keep it."
She looked at him in astonishment.
"Certainly I will keep it," she agreed.
"Five days ago," Mr. Gluckstein informed her painfully, "my partner
abthconded, and left me almosth a ruined man."
Her face expressed genuine sympathy.
"I am very sorry," she said feelingly. "What a dreadful blow for you."
"It ith unnethecessary to explain bithness details to you," the
financier proceeded. "My working capital hath gone, and the fact thimply
is that I cannot carry on--unleth----" he paused to give his words
additional emphasis, "unleth you repay me my twelve thousand poundth in
full within two months."
"Two months?" she exclaimed blankly.
"Two months," he repeatedly firmly. "That ith the utmost time I can give
you. Have you any other means of raithing the money?"
"Not a ghost of one," she replied frankly. "I might as well try to push
over the Marble Arch as raise a single thousand."
"Then," he said steadily, "if you do not marry Copplesthone I am a
bankrupt--and a bankrupt I will not be."
"I shall marry him," she said. "I told you I should--and I shall. You
will have your money."
"I believed you," he returned. "But another woman beat you."
She looked away from him.
"Did she?" she replied evenly.
There was silence for a moment.
"When Copplesthone announthed his engagement to Mith Manderthon," the
financier went on, "I stood ruined. I admit it. I stood ruined by your
defeat. That ith the thecret that you muth keep. I was sure that you had
no other means of paying me back. Nothing could save me but a
miraculouth removal of the obstacle."
"The obstacle was removed," she said, in the same even tone.
He shuddered.
"It wath. The obstacle that stood between you and Copplesthone, and me
and ruination, wath removed. It was a ghastly thing, and we are very
thorry. But let uth be candid. It wath to our advantage."
"Yes," she agreed slowly--"it was to our advantage."
"There must not be another obstacle," he said.
"There will not be another," she replied. "George Copplestone will marry
me--and you shall have your twelve thousand pounds, as I promised. You
need not be anxious."
He looked round the luxurious room, and sighed deeply. It surprised her
that she had not noticed before how much he had aged.
"I must begin again," he said. "I am getting old--but I will rebuild my
fortune. I will not be the only poor Jew in London."
"You have been a good friend to me," she said gently. "I am very sorry."
He paused to finish his drink, but his crafty eyes never left her face.
She did not meet them.
"I wonder," he said, in a slightly lower tone, replacing his empty glass
on the table, "what the police will discover."
"I should imagine that there is very little to be discovered," she
returned. "There seems no doubt that it was James Layton, the Mad
Millionaire, as he is called. He will probably be arrested within the
next twenty-four hours. It appears to be a clear case. He threatened
her--in front of us all. And he was in the garden."
"It ought to be enough," he admitted, more easily. "What more could they
want?"
"The evidence is very strong," she said, lazily settling her deshabille.
"Many people have been hanged on less. Apparently the police are
satisfied. At least, they have not arrested either of us."
The financier started violently.
"Either of uth?" he cried, aghast. "What do you mean, either of uth?"
Her smile was enigmatical.
"As you said just now--the removal of the obstacle was to the advantage
of both of us."
"But they don't know," he shivered. "They can't know."
"I hope not," she said shortly.
Perspiration began to stand out on his forehead. He had lost color
considerably.
"You promised to keep my thecret," he exclaimed nervously. "Noth a word
to any one."
"I shall keep my promise," she replied.
"There is no cause for alarm. I don't think Inspector Fay will trouble
us."
There was a tap at the door. They turned as the butler entered.
"Inspector Fay would like to see you for a few minutes, madam."
They looked at each other. The financier was agitated. The woman was
perfectly calm.
"Talk of the devil!" she smiled.
Mr. Gluckstein gripped his hat, stick, and gloves, and rose hurriedly.
"He must not see me here," he said jerkily. "Let me out another way."
"Go through there," she said, pointing to a door at the opposite end of
the room, "and when he has come in, Parker will let you out. Bring the
inspector in, Parker."
The financier did not wait to shake hands.
"Remember," he whispered passing her--"both your promises."
"They will be kept," she said.