Part 3 (2/2)
”Then we have it to pay back again.”
”And that's the psychological moment for raiding our 'miser's sunless coffers'-if he happens to have any. It will give us time to find out.”
”But he doesn't keep open office all night,” I objected.
”But he opens at nine o'clock in the morning,” said Raffles, ”to catch the early stockbroker who would rather be bled than hammered.”
”Who told you that?”
”Our Mrs. Shylock.”
”You must have made great friends with her?”
”More in pity than for the sake of secrets.”
”But you went where the secrets were?”
”And she gave them away wholesale.”
”She would,” I said, ”to you.”
”She told me a lot about the impending libel action.”
”Shylock v. Fact?”
”Yes; it's coming on before the vacation, you know.”
”So I saw in some paper.”
”But you know what it's all about, Bunny?”
”No, I don't.”
”Another old rascal, the Maharajah of Hathipur, and his perfectly fabulous debts. It seems he's been in our Mr. Shylock's clutches for years, but instead of taking his pound of flesh he's always increasing the amount. Of course that's the whole duty of money-lenders, but now they say the figure runs well into six. No one has any sympathy with that old heathen; he's said to have been a pal of Nana's before the Mutiny, and in it up to the neck he only saved by turning against his own lot in time; in any case it's the pot and the kettle so far as moral colour is concerned. But I believe it's an actual fact that syndicates have been formed to buy up the black man's debts and take a reasonable interest, only the dirty white man always gets to windward of the syndicate. They're on the point of bringing it off, when old Levy inveigles the n.i.g.g.e.r into some new Oriental extravagance. Fact has exposed the whole thing, and printed blackmailing letters which Shylock swears are forgeries. That's both their cases in a philippine! The leeches told the Jew he must do his Carlsbad this year before the case came on; and the tremendous amount it's going to cost may account for his dunning old clients the moment he gets back.”
”Then why should he lend to you?”
”I'm a new client, Bunny; that makes all the difference. Then we were very good pals out there.”
”But you and Mrs. Shylock were better still?”
”Unbeknowns, Bunny! She used to tell me her troubles when I lent her an arm and took due care to look a martyr; my hunting friend had coa.r.s.e metaphors about heavy-weights and the knacker's yard.”
”And yet you came away with the poor soul's necklace?”
Raffles was tapping the chronic cigarette on the table at his elbow; he stood up to light it, as one does stand up to make the dramatic announcements of one's life, and he spoke through the flame of the match as it rose and fell between his puffs.
<script>