Levi Schomberg made a little click with his tongue, which might have meant anything.
“I am sorry to hear that, Louie,” he said carelessly. “Is it not strange that though you appear always to have unlimited cash to fling about, yet whenever I call to see you the cupboard is bare? Still, I need that sum, and you know that what I need I always end by getting, even if in order to get it I am forced to tighten the screw. Come now, when can you hand it to me? Shall we say to-morrow at twelve, at the same place as before?”
Stapleton had begun to pace the floor. Jessica, her fingers twitching nervously, watched him with an evil expression. It was easy to see that for some reason the man and the woman, usually so self-possessed, were in their visitor’s power.
Thus a minute or two passed. Then, all at once, Stapleton came to a halt and, turning sharply, faced Levi Schomberg.
“If I give you that sum, say on Friday—to-day is Tuesday—will you undertake, in writing, to stop this persecution?”
“In writing? Oh, no. Besides, I could not, in any case, promise to stop what you are pleased to call ‘this persecution,’ for where else should I go for the money? My demands are not exorbitant, Louie, judged by the length of your purse. Were you less rich, my requests would be moderated in proportion to your income. That, as I think you know, is my invariable rule. I find out exactly what my ‘client’s’ income is from all sources, and I regulate my tariff accordingly. That is only fair and just. May I take it then that on—Friday——”
“Get out of my sight!”
“No, don’t say that, don’t employ that tone,” the little Jew went on, in no way disconcerted. “I have news to give you—good news, Louie, think of that!”
He crossed his legs, and lay back in his chair. Then, thrusting his hands deep into his trousers pockets, he said:
“Louie—and Jessica,” glancing at each in turn, “you will be happy to hear that though secret inquiries are being made about you on all sides, nothing, as the newspapers say, ‘has as yet transpired.’”