He bend over that note. He
looked at it and looked at it; and then he looked at me.
"'I don't believe that note ever was bad!' I say. 'I told you when you
charged me I didn't believe it. That is why I have made up my mind to give
you notice, to go away from here. And if that note is bad then you can put
me in prison.'
"Monsieur Giatron--he went back to the safe. He rummaged round among a
pile of papers and soon he came out again. He was looking pasty-colored.
'Louis,' he said, 'some one has been very clever! You can go to hell!' And
so, Mr. Bundercombe," Louis wound up, beaming, "here I am!"
CHAPTER XIII--"THE SHORN LAMB"
I never remembered seeing Mr. Bundercombe look more cheerful than when, at
his urgent summons, I left Eve in the drawing-room and made my way into
the study. He was standing on the hearthrug, with the tails of his morning
coat drooping over his arms and an expression on his face that I can only
describe as cherubic. Seated on chairs, a yard or so away from him, were
two visitors of whom at first glance I formed a most unfavorable opinion.
One was a flashily dressed, middle-aged man, with fair mustache, puffy
cheeks, and a superfluity of jewelry. The other I might at first have
taken for an undertaker's mute.
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