“Supposing! Well, it would mean one Hebrew less in the world.”
“And many thousands of pounds left in our pockets which, under existing conditions, will have to come out of them.”
“It is worth considering.”
“Certainly.”
“As long as he remains alive, remember, we shall be subjected to repetitions of the sort of visit he has just paid us.”
And, while they talked, Levi Schomberg, threading his way along the crowded pavement of Oxford Street, had but one thought in his mind.
Jessica.
He had always admired her, but now she had completely bewitched him. Surely—surely with the woman in his power, and with Stapleton, too, in his power, anything and everything should be possible? But how set about it? What would be his best and most direct mode of attack?
Another thought came to him. Where was Mervyn-Robertson? He knew the fellow was not dead, but what had become of him, and in what corner of the world was he at that moment? If only he could find out, Robertson himself might be employed in some capacity to achieve his end. When he had last heard of Robertson, some years before, the man had been in dire straits, and when a man of his type and way of living came to be in dire straits, he reflected, he generally remained in that state until the end of the chapter.
Then there was Mrs. Hartsilver. Hating Jessica, and striving all she knew to find out all about her, she might serve sooner or later as a useful lever. When two women, both beautiful, and both moving in the same social circle, come to entertain a bitter enmity for each other, anything may happen, or be made to happen, he reflected. And Jessica had other enemies as well among “the people who count,” he remembered. Yes, with the aid of a little tact, a little ingenuity——