Bennett, Arnold, 1867-1931 / 2008-06-12 00:00:00
" This
is business. If you had been the ordinary hotel clerk I should have
slipped you a couple of sovereigns into your hand, and the thing
would have been done.
As you are not - as you are obviously above bribes - I merely say to
you, I must see Mr Babylon at once on an affair of the utmost
urgency. My name is Racksole - Theodore Racksole.'
'Of New York?' questioned a voice at the door, with a slight
foreign accent.
The millionaire turned sharply, and saw a rather short,
French-looking man, with a bald head, a grey beard, a long and
perfectly-built frock coat, eye-glasses attached to a minute silver
chain, and blue eyes that seemed to have the transparent innocence
of a maid's.
'There is only one,' said Theodore Racksole succinctly.
'You wish to see me?' the new-comer suggested.
'You are Mr Felix Babylon?'
The man bowed.
'At this moment I wish to see you more than anyone else in the
world,' said Racksole. 'I am consumed and burnt up with a desire
to see you, Mr Babylon.
I only want a few minutes' quiet chat. I fancy I can settle my
business in that time.'
With a gesture Mr Babylon invited the millionaire down a side
corridor, at the end of which was Mr Babylon's private room, a
miracle of Louis XV furniture and tapestry: like most unmarried
men with large incomes, Mr Babylon had 'tastes' of a highly
expensive sort.
The landlord and his guest sat down opposite each other.
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