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The meal was served by a man whom the great financier addressed as Horton, and just before coffee was brought in I recollect that Moroni left the table and went to the telephone. Then, on his return, the man Horton brought in the cups which were already filled. The man put down a cup before me, but De Gex noticing that it was a little too full, politely exchanged his for mine.
Despujol has made desperate war upon society, and it is De Gex who secretly finances him! Hence he is the servant of the man with money." The dark-faced Spaniard reflected. "Well," he exclaimed at last. "What you have revealed is certainly most interesting." "And if you wish to capture Despujol you must lose no time," I assured him.
A man like De Gex, with so many financial irons in the fire, and with agents in every European capital, is bound to receive visits from all sorts and conditions of people who bring him information for profit. When one deals in colossal sums as he does, one has to cultivate people of all classes," Hambledon said.
I could not fail to notice the grace of carriage of the girl whose listless attitude was so mysterious, and whose exact whereabouts Oswald De Gex was concealing from his friend, Mrs. Cullerton.
I had been in Gex just a fortnight when the weather, which hitherto had been splendid, turned to squalls and storms. We were then in the second week of September. A torrential rain had fallen the whole of one day, during which I had only been out in order to meet Leroux, as usual, at the Café du Crâne Chauve.
She lives with her mother in a maisonette in Longridge Road, Earl's Court, I forget the number, but you could easily find out." "And she is there now, I presume?" "I expect so if what Mr. De Gex has told me is the truth." "But will he ever tell you the truth?" I queried. "Recollect that although he poses as your husband's friend, he is nevertheless your enemy because he fears you! Why is that?"
They seemed to be hysterical sobs, as of someone who had suffered from some great shock. I was full of wonderment. It was unusual, I thought, that such noises should be heard in a sedate West End mansion. There was a long-drawn-out sob, and then silence. A dead silence! A few moments later Mr. De Gex came in looking very flushed and excited.
"And now I'm getting shabby!" I threw back my head and laughed at the new and comical conception of Simon de Gex down at heel. "Oh, not shabby!" echoed Lola. "Yes, my dear. The days of purple and fine linen are vorbei. You'll have to put up with me in a threadbare coat and frayed cuffs and ragged hems to my trousers." Lola declared that I was talking rubbish.
If such were the case, it seemed more than probable that to Count de Chamartin, the intimate associate of Oswald De Gex, a similar dose of orosin had been administered! The means by which the unfortunate Baron van Veltrup had met with his death was as ingenious as that practised upon me by the expert thief, Despujol.
Our Blessed Father when visiting the bailiwick of Gex, which adjoins the city of Geneva, in order to re-establish the Catholic religion in some parishes, declared that his Faith gained new vigour through his intercourse with the heretics of those parts, who were sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death.
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