"A matter of imperative importance calls me away. I shall return to-morrow."
Jawkins looked inexorable, and declared that he could not afford to have her go. "You are the lodestone of my organization, the influence by which the various celebrities I chaperone are harmonized. If it is a question of pounds, I mean dollars—this new currency is very puzzling—dictate your own terms. I have a valuable diamond here which once belonged to our sovereign. I shall be happy to make you a present of it if you will give up your plan." He held up the gem as he spoke.
"What you ask is impossible. There are moments in a woman's life when even a diamond seems lustreless as your eyes, Mr. Jawkins, if you will pardon the simile." Her sleepless night had made her wrong burn so grievously that she could not refrain from sententiousness, even in the presence of this man whom she despised.
The undertaker scratched his head thoughtfully. "Has the Archbishop of Canterbury said anything to offend your irreligious scruples?"
"No."
"I trust the prim manners of her Grace have not wounded your feelings. She has old-fashioned notions regarding the sanctity of matrimonial relations. She does not approve, perhaps, of your appearing in public without your husband," said Mr. Jawkins, with an apologetic smile.
"I have no feelings. You forget I am a woman of the world. Besides I am revenged for any coldness on the part of the Duchess by her husband's affability. I got a guinea out of the Duke last evening."
"By what method?" asked the other, with unfeigned admiration.
"He kissed my hand. Perhaps you are now aware, Mr. Jawkins," continued Mrs. Carey, with a captivating swirl of her swan-like neck, "that I have established a personal tariff. My attractions are scheduled. To kiss a thumb or any but my little fingers costs two bob. The little fingers come at half a crown. To roam at will over my whole hand involves the outlay of a guinea. Am I not ingenious and at the same time reasonable in my terms, Mr. Jawkins? I will squeeze your hand for sixpence." She laughed charmingly. Go to London she must and would, but she hoped to accomplish her purpose by wheedling and to avoid a rupture with the manager.
"Madam," he replied, with polite coldness, "was not my attitude toward you what may be called fiduciary I should hasten to take advantage of your offer. But business is business, and I have made it a rule never to enter into social relations with any of my clients during the continuance of a contract. Excuse me for saying, Mrs. Carey, that if you persist in your design I shall feel obliged to withdraw your back pay."