‘Well, after all,’ the grey gentleman concluded, ‘it had better be left to Mr. Huxtable.’
XIV
The Huxtable came later—a terrifying young man, who said little, but listened with a tolerant smile—and after him a host of others, entailed by his plans for Dwala. A house had been found in Park Lane. The owner, who was travelling in the East, had left the thing intact; his creditors wished to sell it as it stood. The appointments were passable; he had been a rather random collector of good things—some rubbish must be weeded out and replaced, but there was nothing to delay possession.
However, it must be paid for. If Mr. Cato would produce his accounts, the Huxtable would be glad to go through them with him.
‘Oh, I have no accounts to show.’
‘Why not?’
‘Dwala has been my guest. There is nothing to account for.’
‘But the property in Borneo—you have an account of that?’
‘No.’
‘This is all very curious. A man has a fortune of some hundreds of thousands a year, and no account is kept of it!’