"An Englishman, by Jove!" he remarked with a great semblance of geniality. "So am I. Very happy to meet you, sir. You're interested in my car?"
"Not at the price," Slyne returned, with an indifferent hauteur which he judged likely to be effective with one in the stranger's presumable plight. And the fat man's lips drooped visibly, the pouches under his uneasy eyes became more marked. He was obviously disappointed, and felt himself snubbed. He did not seem quite sure what to say or do next.
Slyne, congratulating himself on his talent for character reading, turned away, to look at a cheap runabout, as carelessly as though he had all time at his disposal, instead of being, as he was, in a fever of ill-restrained impatience. The salesman figuratively washed his hands of them both; he could already foresee a forced sale at a calamitous sacrifice. And so it fell out.
Slyne, cavalier to the verge of rudeness, finally bought the big scarlet car, which the other almost forced upon him, for about half its market value, and paid for it there and then, in the new French notes which had almost been burning a hole in his pocket since he had left the Crédit Lyonnais office—so eager was he to be off on his last forlorn hope of winning Sallie.
"If you had allowed me only a few hours longer, I could have got you twice that amount," said the disappointed salesman in a stage aside to the seller as he counted over his own diminished commission. But the fat man merely bestowed on him a look of contemptuous annoyance, and, having signed the receipt Slyne required, tucked away in an empty pocket-book the balance of the crisply-rustling bills he had just received.
Even then he did not appear to know what next to do with himself. For, having glanced at his watch, he gave vent to a grunt of disgust, and hung on his heel undecidedly, after making a move to go.
"It's only about a hundred miles to Monaco, isn't it?" Slyne asked the salesman; and was answered in the affirmative.
The fat man gasped and choked for a moment, and then spoke again, with more confidence: a change due, perhaps, to the improvement in his finances.
"Pardon me, sir," said he, "but—if you're going that way, I wonder—It would be a most tremendous favour to me, and I haven't haggled over giving you the best of our bargain. The train's just gone, and—"
Slyne, chin in air, once more looked him over appraisingly, as he stammered and hesitated; and was very much disposed to cut him adrift without more ado. But some indefinable impulse, some feeling that here was a bird of a feather very sadly astray, caused him to alter his mind. "I'll be glad to give you a lift," he said, more graciously, "if you're ready to start now. But I can't wait."