"
The other gentleman, whom Mr. Lavender took for the Secretary, and who
was leaning his head rather wearily on his hand, interjected: "Quite so!
And whom would you choose besides yourself? In France, for instance?"
He who was walking stopped a moment, again looked at Mr. Lavender
intently, and again began to speak as if he were not there.
"France?" he said. "There isn't anybody--Anatole's too old--there isn't
anybody."
"America, then?" hazarded the Secretary.
"America!" replied the other; "they haven't got even half a man. There's
that fellow in Germany that I used to influence; but I don't know--no, I
don't think he'd be any good."
"D'Annunzio, surely----" began the Secretary.
"D'Annunzio? My God! D'Annunzio! No! There's nobody in Italy or
Holland--she's as bankrupt as Spain; and there's not a cat in Austria.
Russia might, perhaps, give us someone, but I can't at the moment think
of him. No, Titmarsh, it's difficult."
Mr. Lavender had been growing more and more excited at each word he
overheard, for a scheme of really stupendous proportions was shaping
itself within him. He suddenly rose, and said: "I have an idea."
The Secretary sat up as if he had received a Faradic shock, and he who
was walking up and down stood still.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191