"What of it?" Cranston's tone was careless. "Something might happen to them in storage. Particularly the skins and rugs. I would prefer to leave them with someone like yourself. Someone who would appreciate them.
"I have had several friends in mind, but, unfortunately, all are out of town. These guests of mine tonight wealthy, but not appreciative. They buy what they want. Let them. You are the only one who has expressed real admiration for these objects."
Cranston pressed a button on the wall. His valet came to the room.
"Richards," said Cranston, "where did you leave that large empty box. The heavy one, you know—"
"In the downstairs hallway, sir," responded the valet.
"Come along," suggested Cranston to Savette. "I have the very thing we need." He led the physician to the hall below. There, at the rear of the hallway, stood a large box with a door-like front, triple-locked with padlocks. Cranston thumped it in and out to show its solidity.
"This is the very thing," he said. "I am serious, doctor. I would consider it both a favor and an honor if you would provide a comfortable home for some of my rugs and skins. Add a few of the more interesting trophies if you wish.
"I am going away for a long time. I may never come back. I attach no strings to my offer.
"When I return from my present trip, I shall have a supply of new curios that will be larger than the old collection. Larger and of more recent interest."
"You are leaving for two years?" asked Savette.