"But the truth of the matter is that I am 'en mission,'" continued Captain Blunt."I have been instructed to settle some things, to set other things going, and, by my instructions, Dona Rita is to be the intermediary for all those objects.And why? Because every bald head in this Republican Government gets pink at the top whenever her dress rustles outside the door.They bow with immense deference when the door opens, but the bow conceals a smirk because of those Venetian days.That confounded Versoy shoved his nose into that business; he says accidentally.He saw them together on the Lido and (those writing fellows are horrible) he wrote what he calls a vignette (I suppose accidentally, too) under that very title.There was in it a Prince and a lady and a big dog.He described how the Prince on landing from the gondola emptied his purse into the hands of a picturesque old beggar, while the lady, a little way off, stood gazing back at Venice with the dog romantically stretched at her feet.One of Versoy's beautiful prose vignettes in a great daily that has a literary column.But some other papers that didn't care a cent for literature rehashed the mere fact.And that's the sort of fact that impresses your political man, especially if the lady is, well, such as she is..
."
He paused.His dark eyes flashed fatally, away from us, in the direction of the shy dummy; and then he went on with cultivated cynicism.
"So she rushes down here.Overdone, weary, rest for her nerves.
Nonsense.I assure you she has no more nerves than I have."I don't know how he meant it, but at that moment, slim and elegant, he seemed a mere bundle of nerves himself, with the flitting expressions on his thin, well-bred face, with the restlessness of his meagre brown hands amongst the objects on the table.With some pipe ash amongst a little spilt wine his forefinger traced a capital R.Then he looked into an empty glass profoundly.I have a notion that I sat there staring and listening like a yokel at a play.Mills' pipe was lying quite a foot away in front of him, empty, cold.Perhaps he had no more tobacco.Mr.Blunt assumed his dandified air - nervously.
"Of course her movements are commented on in the most exclusive drawing-rooms and also in other places, also exclusive, but where the gossip takes on another tone.There they are probably saying that she has got a 'coup de coeur' for some one.Whereas I think she is utterly incapable of that sort of thing.That Venetian affair, the beginning of it and the end of it, was nothing but a coup de tete, and all those activities in which I am involved, as you see (by order of Headquarters, ha, ha, ha!), are nothing but that, all this connection, all this intimacy into which I have dropped...Not to speak of my mother, who is delightful, but as irresponsible as one of those crazy princesses that shock their Royal families..."He seemed to bite his tongue and I observed that Mills' eyes seemed to have grown wider than I had ever seen them before.In that tranquil face it was a great play of feature."An intimacy," began Mr.Blunt, with an extremely refined grimness of tone, "an intimacy with the heiress of Mr.Allegre on the part of...on my part, well, it isn't exactly...it's open...well, I leave it to you, what does it look like?""Is there anybody looking on?" Mills let fall, gently, through his kindly lips.
"Not actually, perhaps, at this moment.But I don't need to tell a man of the world, like you, that such things cannot remain unseen.
And that they are, well, compromising, because of the mere fact of the fortune."Mills got on his feet, looked for his jacket and after getting into it made himself heard while he looked for his hat.
"Whereas the woman herself is, so to speak, priceless."Mr.Blunt muttered the word "Obviously."
By then we were all on our feet.The iron stove glowed no longer and the lamp, surrounded by empty bottles and empty glasses, had grown dimmer.
I know that I had a great shiver on getting away from the cushions of the divan.
"We will meet again in a few hours," said Mr.Blunt.
"Don't forget to come," he said, addressing me."Oh, yes, do.
Have no scruples.I am authorized to make invitations."He must have noticed my shyness, my surprise, my embarrassment.
And indeed I didn't know what to say.
"I assure you there isn't anything incorrect in your coming," he insisted, with the greatest civility."You will be introduced by two good friends, Mills and myself.Surely you are not afraid of a very charming woman...."I was not afraid, but my head swam a little and I only looked at him mutely.
"Lunch precisely at midday.Mills will bring you along.I am sorry you two are going.I shall throw myself on the bed for an hour or two, but I am sure I won't sleep."He accompanied us along the passage into the black-and-white hall, where the low gas flame glimmered forlornly.When he opened the front door the cold blast of the mistral rushing down the street of the Consuls made me shiver to the very marrow of my bones.
Mills and I exchanged but a few words as we walked down towards the centre of the town.In the chill tempestuous dawn he strolled along musingly, disregarding the discomfort of the cold, the depressing influence of the hour, the desolation of the empty streets in which the dry dust rose in whirls in front of us, behind us, flew upon us from the side streets.The masks had gone home and our footsteps echoed on the flagstones with unequal sound as of men without purpose, without hope.
"I suppose you will come," said Mills suddenly.
"I really don't know," I said.
"Don't you? Well, remember I am not trying to persuade you; but Iam staying at the Hotel de Louvre and I shall leave there at a quarter to twelve for that lunch.At a quarter to twelve, not a minute later.I suppose you can sleep?"I laughed.
"Charming age, yours," said Mills, as we came out on the quays.
Already dim figures of the workers moved in the biting dawn and the masted forms of ships were coming out dimly, as far as the eye could reach down the old harbour.
"Well," Mills began again, "you may oversleep yourself."This suggestion was made in a cheerful tone, just as we shook hands at the lower end of the Cannebiere.He looked very burly as he walked away from me.I went on towards my lodgings.My head was very full of confused images, but I was really too tired to think.
