“Oh, I never discussed things like that with him. But I know what it would have been. He didn’t like Perren.”
“And Mr. McNair?”
“He disliked Perren more than I did. Outwardly they were friends, but... anyway, Uncle Boyd wasn’t two-faced. Shall I tell you...”
“By all means.”
“Well, one day about a year ago Uncle Boyd sent for me to go upstairs to his office, and when I went in Perren was there. Uncle Boyd was standing up and looking white and determined. I asked him what was the matter, and he said he only wanted to tell me, in Perrens’s presence, that any influence his friendship and affection might have on me was unalterably opposed to my marriage with Perren. He said it very... formally, and that wasn’t like him. He didn’t ask me to promise or anything. He just said that and then told me to go.”
“And in spite of that, Mr. Gebert has persisted with his courtship.”
“Of course he has. Why wouldn’t he? Lots of men have. I’m so rich it’s worth quite an effort.”
“Dear me.” Wolfe’s eyes flickered open at her and half shut again. “As cynical as that about it? But a brave cynicism which is of course proper. Nothing is more admirable than the fortitude with which millionaires tolerate the disadvantages of their wealth. What is Mr. Gebert’s profession?”
“He hasn’t any. That’s one of the things I don’t like about him. He doesn’t do anything.”
“Has he an income?”