And I
cannot imagine for one moment that you will make any difficulty about
it."
Faversham's pulse began to race.
He suspended his cigarette.
"What is it?"
"I am asked to send a selection of antique gems to the Loan Exhibition
which is being got up by the 'Amis du Louvre' in Paris, after Christmas.
I desire to send both the Arconati Bacchus and the Medusa--in fact all
those now in the case committed to my keeping."
"I have no objection," said Faversham. But he had suddenly lost colour.
"I can only send them in my own name," said Melrose slowly.
"That difficulty is not insurmountable. I can lend them to you."
Melrose's composure gave way. He brought his hand heavily down on the
table.
"I shall send them in--as my own property--in my own name!"
Faversham eyed him.
"But they are not--they will not be--your property."
"I offer you three thousand pounds for them!--four thousand--five
thousand--if you want more you can have it. Drive the best bargain you
can!" sneered Melrose, trying to smile.
"I refuse your offer--your very generous offer--with great regret--but I
refuse!" Faversham had risen to his feet.
"And your reason?--for a behaviour so--so vilely ungrateful!"
"Simply, that the gems were left to me--by an uncle I loved--who was a
second father to me--who asked me not to sell them. I have warned you not
once, or twice, that I should never sell them."
"No! You expected both to get hold of my property--and to keep your own!"
"Insult me as you like," said Faversham, quietly.
Pages:
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437