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Mrs. Whitney gave Vagen a look of sweet resignation and Vagen responded with an expression which said: "I understand. He is very ill. He is not responsible. I admire your ladylike patience." As Whitney's eyes were closed he missed this byplay. "Here, Vagen before you go," he drawled, waving a weary hand toward the table at his elbow. "Here's a check for ten thousand.
"Don't take that tone with me, I tell you!" he said with some energy in his drawl. "Don't talk to me as if you were hanging over my deathbed lying to me about my going to live!" And he closed his eyes, and his breath made his parted, languid lips flutter. "Mr. Vagen," said Matilda, in her tone of sweet graciousness, "may I trouble you to go and "
"But they all say that 'with proper care' " began Vagen, with the faith of the little in the pretentious. "So they do! So they do!" interrupted Whitney, whom life had taught not to measure wisdom by profession of it, nor yet by repute for it. And he went on in a drowsy drawl, significantly different from his wonted rather explosive method of speech: "But does any of 'em say what 'proper care' is?
"Go to the devil, Vagen," said Charles, starting up again that slow stream of fainting words and sentences. "Anywhere to get you out of the room so you won't fill the flapping ears of your friends with gossip about Whitney and his wife. Though why she should send you out I can't understand. If you and the servants don't hear what's going on, you make up and tattle worse than what really happens."
A long silence during which the uncomfortable Vagen had the consolation of seeing in that haggard, baggy, pasty-white face that his master's thoughts were serving him much worse than mere discomfort. Then Whitney spoke again: "Yes, I'm going to Saint X. I'm going home to " He did not finish; he could not speak the word of finality.
Vagen saw the look in his pale, blue-green eyes, saw that the great financier knew he would never again fling his terrible nets broadcast for vast hauls of golden fish, knew his days were numbered and that the number was small.
Each gives his opinion. Eight opinions, each different and each cautioning me against the kind of 'care' prescribed by the other seven. And I paid six thousand dollars!" A cynical smile played round his thin-lipped, sensual, selfish mouth. "Sixty-three hundred," corrected Vagen. He never missed this sort of chance to impress his master with his passion for accuracy. "Sixty-three, then.
I've not made my will yet, and as I may not be able to, I give you the money now. You'll find the check in this top drawer, and some other checks for the people near me. I suppose they'll expect something I've got 'em into the habit of it. Take 'em and run along and send 'em off right away." Vagen muttered inarticulate thanks.
"There never was a man as timid as you are that wasn't honest. What a shallow world it is! How often envy and cowardice pass for virtue!" "I often say, sir," replied Vagen, with intent to soothe and flatter, "there ain't one man in ten million that wouldn't have done the things you've done if they'd had the brains and the nerve." "And pray what are the 'things I've done'?" inquired Whitney.
In fact, the check was making small impression on him, or the revelation that his chief had eyes as keen for what was going on under his nose as for the great movements in the big field. He could think only of that terrifying weakness, that significant garrulousness. When Vagen was out of the way, Charles repeated: "I'm going this afternoon."
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