Now, not until we had parted did it occur to me that De Gex might be also going there. In that case he certainly should not meet me. So I sought Robertson’s aid concerning his master’s engagements, and discovered that on Thursday morning the millionaire was going to Leghorn to join his yacht for a week’s cruise across to Algiers.
Therefore I accepted Mrs. Cullerton’s invitation, and found at the villa a number of pleasant, cosmopolitan people, whom I had already met at the French Consul’s. I was introduced by my hostess to her husband, Jack, a smartly-dressed man, and a typical young member of the Stock Exchange. Afterwards I succeeded in having quite a long conversation with his wife.
Quite casually I mentioned the Villa Clementini, and its owner.
“Do you know him?” she asked with interest. “He is such a dear, generous old thing.”
“I have met him once,” I replied with affected unconcern. “They say he’s a little eccentric—don’t they?”
“His enemies say that,” she replied, “but his friends are full of praise of him. He’s the most charming and generous of men, and his great wealth allows him to perform all sorts of kind actions. They say that he can’t refuse anybody who asks for his influence or help.”
I reflected that his influence was certainly a baneful one.
“Ah! I see you are one of his friends, Mrs. Cullerton!” I said, laughing.
“Yes—I confess I am.”
“Then would you be surprised if I told you in strictest confidence that he is not your friend, but one of your bitterest enemies!” I said, lowering my voice, and looking straight into her wide-open blue eyes.