pgw.uneasymoney-第22部分

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and　pawn　my　watch　and　the　wedding…ring。'
　The　room　rang　with　her　reminiscent　laughter；　Bill　supplying　a　bass　acpaniment。　Bill　was　delighted。　He　had　never　hoped　that　it　would　be　granted　to　him　to　bee　so　rapidly　intimate　with　Claire's　hostess。　Why；　he　had　only　to　keep　the　conversation　in　this　chummy　vein　for　a　little　while　longer　and　she　would　give　him　the　run　of　the　house。
　'Miss　Fenwick　isn't　in　now；　I　suppose？'　he　asked。
　'No；　Claire's　out　with　Dudley　Pickering。　You　don't　know　him；　do　you？'
　'No。'
　'She's　engaged　to　him。'
　It　is　an　ironical　fact　that　Lady　Wetherby　was　by　nature　one　of　the　firmest　believers　in　existence　in　the　policy　of　breaking　things　gently　to　people。　She　had　a　big；　soft　heart；　and　she　hated　hurting　her　fellows。　As　a　rule；　when　she　had　bad　news　to　impart　to　any　one　she　administered　the　blow　so　gradually　and　with　such　mystery　as　to　the　actual　facts　that　the　victim；　having　passed　through　the　various　stages　of　imagined　horrors；　was　genuinely　relieved；　when　she　actually　came　to　the　point；　to　find　that　all　that　had　happened　was　that　he　had　lost　all　his　money。　But　now　in　perfect　innocence；　thinking　only　to　pass　along　an　interesting　bit　of　information；　she　had　crushed　Bill　as　effectively　as　if　she　had　used　a　club　for　that　purpose。
　'I'm　tickled　to　death　about　it；'　she　went　on；　as　it　were　over　her　hearer's　prostrate　body。　It　was　I　who　brought　them　together；　you　know。　I　wrote　telling　Claire　to　e　out　here　on　the　_Atlantic；_　knowing　that　Dudley　was　sailing　on　that　boat。　I　had　an　idea　they　would　hit　it　off　together。　Dudley　fell　for　her　right　away；　and　she　must　have　fallen　for　him；　for　they　had　only　known　each　other　for　a　few　weeks　when　they　came　and　told　me　they　were　engaged。　It　happened　last　Sunday。'
　'Last　Sunday！'
　It　had　seemed　to　Bill　a　moment　before　that　he　would　never　again　be　capable　of　speech；　but　this　statement　dragged　the　words　out　of　him。　Last　Sunday！　Why；　it　was　last　Sunday　that　Claire　had　broken　off　her　engagement　with　him！
　'Last　Sunday　at　nine　o'clock　in　the　evening；　with　a　full　moon　shining　and　soft　music　going　on　off…stage。　Real　third…act　stuff。'
　Bill　felt　positively　dizzy。　He　groped　back　in　his　memory　for　facts。　He　had　gone　out　for　his　walk　after　dinner。　They　had　dined　at　eight。　He　had　been　walking　some　time。　Why；　in　Heaven's　name；　this　was　the　quickest　thing　in　the　amatory　annals　of　civilization！　His　brain　was　too　numbed　to　work　out　a　perfectly　accurate　schedule；　but　it　looked　as　if　she　must　have　got　engaged　to　this　Pickering　person　before　she　met　him；　Bill；　in　the　road　that　night。
　'It's　a　wonderful　match　for　dear　old　Claire；'　resumed　Lady　Wetherby；　twisting　the　knife　in　the　wound　with　a　happy　unconsciousness。　'Dudley's　not　only　a　corking　good　fellow；　but　he　has　thirty　million　dollars　stuffed　away　in　the　stocking　and　a　business　that　brings　him　in　a　perfectly　awful　mess　of　money　every　year。　He's　the　Pickering　of　the　Pickering　automobiles；　you　know。'
　Bill　got　up。　He　stood　for　a　moment　holding　to　the　back　of　his　chair　before　speaking。　It　was　almost　exactly　thus　that　he　had　felt　in　the　days　when　he　had　gone　in　for　boxing　and　had　stopped　forceful　swings　with　the　more　sensitive　portions　of　his　person。
　'Thatthat's　splendid！'　he　said。　'II　think　I'll　be　going。'
　'I　heard　the　car　outside　just　now；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'I　think　it's　probably　Claire　and　Dudley　e　back。　Won't　you　wait　and　see　her？'
　Bill　shook　his　head。
　'Well；　good…bye　for　the　present；　then。　You　must　e　round　again。　Any　friend　of　Claire'sand　it　was　bully　of　you　to　bother　about　looking　in　to　tell　of　Eustace。'
　Bill　had　reached　the　door。　He　was　about　to　turn　the　handle　when　someone　turned　it　on　the　other　side。
　'Why；　here　is　Dudley；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'Dudley；　this　is　a　friend　of　Claire's。'
　Dudley　Pickering　was　one　of　those　men　who　take　the　ceremony　of　introduction　with　a　measured　solemnity。　It　was　his　practice　to　grasp　the　party　of　the　second　part　firmly　by　the　hand；　hold　it；　look　into　his　eyes　in　a　reverent　manner；　and　get　off　some　little　speech　of　appreciation；　short　but　full　of　feeling。　The　opening　part　of　this　ceremony　he　performed　now。　He　grasped　Bill's　hand　firmly；　held　it；　and　looked　into　his　eyes。　And　then；　having　performed　his　business；　he　fell　down　on　his　lines。　Not　a　word　proceeded　from　him。　He　dropped　the　hand　and　stared　at　Bill　amazedly　andmore　than　thatwith　fear。
　Bill；　too；　uttered　no　word。　It　was　not　one　of　those　chatty　meetings。
　But　if　they　were　short　on　words；　both　Bill　and　Mr　Pickering　were　long　on　looks。　Bill　stared　at　Mr　Pickering。　Mr　Pickering　stared　at　Bill。
　Bill　was　drinking　in　Mr　Pickering。　The　stoutness　of　Mr　Pickeringthe　orderliness　of　Mr　Pickeringthe　dullness　of　Mr　Pickeringall　these　things　he　perceived。　And　illumination　broke　upon　him。
　Mr　Pickering　was　drinking　in　Bill。　The　largeness　of　Billthe　embarrassment　of　Billthe　obvious　villainy　of　Billnone　of　these　things　escaped　his　notice。　And　illumination　broke　upon　him　also。
　For　Dudley　Pickering；　in　the　first　moment　of　their　meeting；　had　recognized　Bill　as　the　man　who　had　been　lurking　in　the　grounds　and　peering　in　at　the　window；　the　man　at　whom　on　the　night　when　he　had　bee　engaged　to　Claire　he　had　shouted　'Hi！'
　'Where's　Claire；　Dudley？'　asked　Lady　Wetherby。
　Mr　Pickering　withdrew　his　gaze　reluctantly　from　Bill。
　'Gone　upstairs。'
　I'll　go　and　tell　her　that　you're　here；　MrYou　never　told　me　your　name。'
　Bill　came　to　life　with　an　almost　acrobatic　abruptness。　There　were　many　things　of　which　at　that　moment　he　felt　absolutely　incapable；　and　meeting　Claire　was　one　of　them。
　'No；　I　must　be　going；'　he　said；　hurriedly。　'Good…bye。'
　He　came　very　near　running　out　of　the　room。　Lady　Wetherby　regarded　the　practically　slammed　door　with　wide　eyes。
　'Quick　exit　of　Nut　edian！'　she　said。　'Whatever　was　the　matter　with　the　man？　He's　scorched　a　trail　in　the　carpet。'
　Mr　Pickering　was　trembling　violently。
　'Do　you　know　who　that　was？　He　was　the　man！'　said　Mr　Pickering。
　'What　man？'
　'The　man　I　caught　looking　in　at　the　window　that　night！'
　'What　nonsense！　You　must　be　mistaken。　He　said　he　knew　Claire　quite　well。'
　'But　when　you　suggested　that　he　should　meet　her　he　ran。'
　This　aspect　of　the　matter　had　not　occurred　to　Lady　Wetherby。
　'So　he　did！'
　'What　did　he　tell　you　that　showed　he　knew　Claire？'
　'Well；　now　that　I　e　to　think　of　it；　he　didn't　tell　me　anything。　I　did　the　talking。　He　just　sat　there。'
　Mr　Pickering　quivered　with　bined　fear　and　excitement　and　inductive　reasoning。
　'It　was　a　trick！'　he　cried。　'Remember　what　Sherriff　said　that　night　when　I　told　you　about　finding　the　man　looking　in　at　the　window？　He　said　that　the　fellow　was　spying　round　as　a　preliminary　move。　To…day　he　trumps　up　an　obviously　false　excuse　for　getting　into　the　house。　Was　he　left　alone　in　the　rooms　at　all？'
　'Yes。　Wrench　loosed　him　in　here　and　then　came　up　to　tell　me。'
　'For　several　minutes；　then；　he　was　alone　in　the　house。　Why；　he　had　time　to　do　all　he　wanted　to　do！'
　'Calm　down！'
　'I　am　perfectly　calm。　But'
　'You've　been　seeing　too　many　crook　plays；　Dudley。　A　man　isn't　necessarily　a　burglar　because　he　wears　a　decent　suit　of　clothes。'
　'Why　was　he　lurking　in　the　grounds　that　night？'
　'You're　just　imagining　that　it　was　the　same　man。'
　'I　am　absolutely　positive　it　was　the　same　man。'
　'Well；　we　can　easily　settle　one　thing　about　him；　at　any　rate。　Here　es　Claire。　Claire；　old　girl；'　she　said；　as　the　door　opened；　'do　you　know　a　man　namedDarn　it！　I　never　got　his　name；　but　he's'
　Claire　stood　in　the　doorway；　looking　from　one　to　the　other。
　'What's　the　matter；　Dudley？'　she　said。
　'Dudley's　gone　clean　up　in　the　air；'　explained　Lady　Wetherby；　tolerantly。　'A　friend　of　yours　called　to　tell　me　he　had　seen　Eustace'
　'So　that　was　his　excuse；　was　it？'　said　Dudley　Pickering。　'Did　he　say　where　Eustace　was？'
　'No；　he　said　he　had　seen　him；　that　was　all'
　'An　obviously　trumped…up　story。　He　had　heard　of　Eustace's　escape　and　he　knew　that　any　story　connected　with　him　would　be　a　passport　into　the　house。'
　Lady　Wetherby　turned　to　Claire。
　'You　haven't　told　us　yet　if　you　know　the　man。　He　was　a　big；　tall；　broad　gazook；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'Very　English'
　'He　faked　the　English；'　said　Dudley　Pickering。　'That　man　was　no　more　an　Englishman　than　I　am。'
　'Be　patient　with　him；　Claire；'　urged　Lady　Wetherby。　'He's　been　going　to　the　movies　too　much；　and　thinks　every　man　who　has　had　his　trousers　pressed　is　a　social　gangster。　This　man　was　the　most　English　thing　I've　ever　seentalked　like　this。'
　She　gave　a　passable　reproduction　of　Bill's　speech。　Claire　started。
　'I　don't　know　him！'　she　cried。
　Her　mind　was　in　a　whirl　of　agitation。　Why　had　Bill　e　to　the　house？　What　had　he　said？　Had　he　told　Dudley　anything？
　'I　don't　recognize　the　description；'　she　said；　quickly。　'I　don't　know　anything　about　him。'
　'There！'　said　Dudley　Pickering；　triumphantly。
　'It's　queer；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'You're　sure　you　don't　know　him；　Claire？'
　'Absolutely　sure。'
　'He　said　he　was　living　at　a　place　near　here；　called　Flack's。'
　'I　know　the　place；'　said　Dudley　Pickering。　'A　sinister；　tumbledown　sort　of　place。　Just　where　a　bunch　of　crooks　would　be　living。'
　'I　thought　it　was　a　bee…farm；'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'One　of　the　tradesmen　told　me　about　it。　I　saw　a　most　corkingly　pretty　girl　bicycling　down　to　the　village　one　morning；　and　they　told　me　she　was　named　Boyd　and　kept　a　bee…farm　at　Flack's。'
　'A　blind！'　said　Mr　Pickering；　stoutly。　'The　girl's　the　man's　acplice。　It's　quite　easy　to　see　the　way　they　work。　The　girl　es　and　settles　in　the　place　so　that　everybody　knows　her。　That's　to　lull　suspicion。　Then　the　man　es　down　for　a　visit　and　goes　about　cleaning　up　the　neighbouring　houses。　You　can't　get　away　from　the　fact　that　this　summer　there　have　been　half　a　dozen　burglaries　down　here；　and　nobody　has　found　out　who　did　them。'
　Lady　Wetherby　looked　at　him　indulgently。
　'And　now；'　she　said；　'having　got　us　scared　stiff；　what　are　you　going　to　do　about　it？'
　'I　am　going；'　he　said；　with　determination；　'to　take　steps。'
　He　went　out　quickly；　the　keen；　tense　man　of　affairs。
　'Bless　him！'　said　Lady　Wetherby。　'I'd　no　idea　your　Dudley　had　so　much　imagination；　Claire。　He's　a　perfect　bomb…shell。'
　Claire　laughed　shakily。
　'It　is　odd；　though；'　said　Lady　Wetherby；　meditat