‘I see! That is just as convenient as our system of counters. The member merely signs a receipt for the money, I suppose, and settles at the end of the week.’
‘Not exactly. The committee prefers a stamped draft at eight days, and charges a small interest. You see an accident might happen to the member——’
‘Quite so,’ interrupted Castiglione, ‘and the draft protects the club, of course. There is only one more case about which I should like to ask. Suppose, for instance, that the member in question did not live in Rome, and that you did not know much about him. He might be a rich foreigner, who had joined for a few days, and though he might have come to the end of his cash, he might have something very valuable about him, such as a handsome diamond or ruby. Does the committee make an exception for him and accept anything of that sort as security?’
‘Occasionally,’ replied the treasurer, ‘it does.’
‘Yes,’ said Castiglione in a thoughtful tone, leaning back in his chair with his hands thrust into the deep pockets of his overcoat. ‘The committee lends money on valuables. That is very convenient.’
He glanced at the treasurer, who was smoking a huge Egyptian cigarette, which he held with his left hand, while the fingers of his right played a noiseless little tattoo on the green cotton velvet of the table; they were white and unhealthy-looking, and loaded with rings.
‘The object of the committee,’ said the man, ‘is to meet the wishes of the members as far as possible, and to study their convenience.’
‘As in the case of Orlando Schmidt,’ observed Castiglione, keeping his eye on the treasurer’s right hand.
The fingers at once stopped playing the noiseless tattoo and lay quite still, though the treasurer gave no other sign of intelligence; but that alone might mean a good deal.