"None of which facts, I am thinking, concern your Excellency," Peter retorted coolly, "except the last. The manuscript of Lady Tarkington's newspaper articles is in my pocket at the present moment, together with her letter to the editor of the Times, asking for these articles to be published at an early opportunity. So, you see, sir, that I am bringing you a perfectly sound proposition."
"I'll have to read those articles first."
"Of course," Peter agreed, and took the sheets of manuscript out of his pocket. "At your leisure."
Naniescu thrust out his podgy hand for them; his large, expressive eyes had lit up with a gleam of excitement. Peter gave him the manuscript, and as he did so he remarked casually, "They are no use to your Excellency without the covering letter."
Which remark seemed to tickle M. de Kervoisin's fancy, for he gave a funny, dry cackle which might pass for a laugh. Naniescu, however, appeared not to have noticed the taunt. His white, downy hands shook slightly as he unfolded the manuscript. He leaned back in his chair and began to read, the excitement of his nerves was chiefly apparent by his stertorous breathing and his almost savage chewing of the stump of his cigar.
M. de Kervoisin remained silent. He offered Peter a cigarette, and while the Englishman struck a match, lit the cigarette and smoked it with obvious relish, the Frenchman watched him through his half-closed lids with an expression of puzzlement upon his keen, wrinkled face. No sound disturbed the silence that had fallen over the actors of the little comedy, only the ticking of an old-fashioned dock and now and then the crisp crackling of paper as Naniescu turned over the sheets of the manuscript. From time to time he nodded his head and murmured complacently, "C'est bien! C'est même très, très bien!" And once he looked across at his friend and asked: "Would you like to read this, Kervoisin?" But the Frenchman only shrugged and replied with a slightly sarcastic smile: "Oh! my dear friend, if you are satisfied——"
Peter said nothing. He waited quite patiently, seemingly completely indifferent, and smoked one cigarette after another.
When Naniescu had finished reading, he carefully folded the manuscript, laid it on the table beside him and put his hand upon it.
"What do you want for this?" he asked.
And Peter replied coolly: "The title deeds of the Kis-Imre property."