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Updated: May 8, 2025
We shall spend some time here." Draconmeyer arrested the much impressed maître d'hôtel as he was hurrying away. "Is there dancing here to-night?" he enquired. "But certainly, monsieur," the man replied. "A Spanish lady, altogether ravishing, the equal of Otéro at her best Signorina Melita." "She dances alone?" "By no means. There is the young Frenchman, Jean Coulois, who is engaged for the season.
To be frank with you, however, after these many years in London I have grown to feel myself very much of an Englishman." Hunterleys was sitting perfectly still. His face was rigid but expressionless. He was listening intently. "On the other hand," Mr. Draconmeyer proceeded slowly, "I wish to be wholly frank with you. At heart I must remain always a German.
"Then you might have treated me," she declared, "with more confidence." "It was not possible," he reminded her, "so long as you chose to make an intimate friend of a man whose every interest in life is in direct antagonism to mine." "Mr. Draconmeyer?" "Mr. Draconmeyer," he assented. She smiled contemptuously. "You misunderstand Mr. Draconmeyer completely," she insisted.
"Not difficulties," Selingman continued quickly. "Or if indeed we do call them difficulties, let us say at once that they are very minor ones. Only the thing must be done neatly and without ostentation, for the sake of our friend who comes." "My own position," Mr. Draconmeyer intervened, "is, in a way, delicate.
Love doesn't come to me like that. It's set in my heart amongst the great things. It's set there side by side with the greatest of all." "His wife!" Selingman muttered. "Are you so colossal a fool as only to have guessed it at this moment?" Draconmeyer continued contemptuously.
The villa is the finest in Monte Carlo, and has always been taken before by some one of note. She declares that they do not mix in the society of the place, but she admits that she has heard a rumour that Grex is only an assumed name." "I begin to believe that myself," he said doggedly. "Hunterleys knows who they are and won't tell me. So does that fellow Draconmeyer." "Sir Henry and Mr.
"The Grand Duke has been doing all he can to get it hushed up, but it is useless. I will not detain you any longer. I see that you are about to have tea." "We shall meet, perhaps, in London?" Hunterleys remarked, as Draconmeyer prepared to depart. Draconmeyer shook his head. "I think not," he replied.
Draconmeyer sat with his eyes fixed upon the hotel, through which streams of people were still passing. One of the under-managers was welcoming the newcomers from a recently arrived train. "You are right," he murmured. "Nothing is known yet. Very likely they will not know until the valet goes to lay out his clothes for dinner.... Dead!"
He is as good as a walking directory." "I wonder if either of you know some people named Grex?" Richard asked, with studious indifference. Mr. Draconmeyer for the first time showed some signs of interest. He looked at their questioner steadfastly. "Grex," he repeated. "A very uncommon name." "Very uncommon-looking people," Richard declared.
A man of varied subtleties, he understood and fully appreciated the intrinsic value of silence. Whilst the Customs officer, however, was making out the deposit note for the car, she turned to him. "Will you tell me something, Mr. Draconmeyer?" "Of course!" "It is about my husband," she went on. "Henry isn't your friend you dislike one another, I know.
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