IX
THE MYSTERY OF THE WHITE CARNATION
§1
"I suppose that is a form of snobbishness," the Old Man in the Corner began abruptly.
I gave such a jump that I nearly upset the contents of a cup of boiling tea which I was conveying to my mouth. As it was, I scalded my tongue and nearly choked.
"What is?" I queried with a frown, for I was really vexed with the creature. I had no idea he was there at all. But he only smiled and concluded his speech, quite unperturbed.
"... that creates additional interest in a crime when it concerns people of wealth or rank."
"Snobbishness," I rejoined, "of course it's snobbishness! And when the little suburban madam has finished reading about Lady Stickinthemud's reception at Claridge's she likes to turn to Lord Tomnoodle's prospective sojourn in gaol."
"You were thinking of the disappearance of the Australian millionaire?" he asked blandly.
"I don't know that I was," I retorted.
"But of course you were. How could any journalist worthy of the name fail to be interested in that intricate case?"