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Jefferson Inche, together with the greater part of his fortuitous fortune neither firearms nor large amounts of money seeming polite additions to one's costume for a dance....
Turning a sharp corner, the British Consulate is reached, where presides, and flies with pride the Union Jack, Her Majesty's Consular Agent, Mr. or Inche MAHOMET, with his three wives and thirteen children. He is a native of Malacca and a clever, zealous, courteous and hospitable official, well versed in the political history of Brunai since the advent of Sir JAMES BROOKE.
But we determined not to be beaten by the Rajas' manoeuvres, and so, though a letter reached me from the Sultan warning me of what had occurred and urging me to return to Brunai, we stuck to our posts, and ultimately were rewarded by the Bisayas returning and the majority of their principal chiefs signing, or rather marking the document embodying their new constitution, as it might be termed, in token of their acquiescence a result which should be placed to the credit of the indefatigable Inche MAHOMET, whose services I am happy to say were specially recognised in a despatch from the Foreign Office.
Perhaps you've heard of me Mrs. Jefferson Inche?" Decidedly he had; and so had nine-tenths of New York's newspaper-reading population. His eyes widened with new interest. "Truly?" he said, civilly responsive to the challenge in her announcement. "But I never knew Mrs. Jefferson Inche was beautiful."
I went to Banangcoro, and lodged with Inche, the King's slave and confident. The motive of the King's journey was to see one of his children. He has six now living: and three he had destroyed. The custom is when a male child of the King's wives is born on a Friday, that the throat should be cut; which is done immediately. The King sent for me.
"Sit down," countered Mrs. Inche amiably; "don't be afraid I don't bite. Now you know who I am, but before you go, I mean to know who you are." "Michael Monahan, madam." This was the first alliterative combination to pop into his optimistic mind. "Can that," retorted the lady serenely "solder it up tight, along with the business of pretending to be a cop. It won't get you anything.
Aware that he would probably do wisely to rise and flee the place, he none the less lingered, vastly intrigued and more than half inclined to see the affair through to the end. "Hello! Columbus, seven, four hundred, please.... Hello Mason?... Taxicab, please Mrs. Jefferson Inche.... Yes charge.... Yes immediately.... Thank you!"
"Simply, I happen to have the whip-hand of the Shaynon conscience," returned P. Sybarite; "I happened to know that Bayard is secretly the husband of a woman notorious in New York under the name of Mrs. Jefferson Inche." "Is that true? Dare I believe ?" Intimations of fears inexpressibly alleviated breathed in her cry. "I believe it." "On what grounds? Tell me!"
If you ever change your mind about that hundred, all you've got to do is to come back and speak for it.... Do I make you right? You're willing to go a bit out of your way to do me a favour to-night?" "Or any other night." "Very well." Mrs. Inche rose. "Wait here a moment."
Consider how lenient I've been with you." P. Sybarite lifted questioning eyebrows, and dragged down the corners of a dubious mouth. "If I wanted to be nasty," Mrs. Inche explained, "you'd be on your way now to a cell in the East Fifty-first Street station. But I was grateful." "The Saints be praised for that!" exclaimed the little man fervently. "What's it for?"
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