Mr. Grex of Monte Carlo | Page 3

man in a brown suit and a Homburg hat, and
with a habit of lounging. He lounges under my windows, he is probably
lounging across the way now. He has lounged within fifty yards of me
for the last three weeks, and to tell you the truth I am tired of him.
Couldn't I have a week's holiday? I'll keep a diary and tell you all that
you want to know."
"Is it sufficient," he asked, "for me to assure you, upon my word of
honour, that I know nothing of this?"
She was somewhat startled. She turned and looked at him. His tone was
convincing. He had not the face of a man whose word of honour was a
negligible thing.
"But, Henry," she protested, "I tell you that there is no doubt about the

matter. I am watched day and night--I, an insignificant person whose
doings can be of no possible interest save to you and you only."
The man did not at once reply. His thoughts seemed to have wandered
off for a moment. When he spoke again, his tone had lost its note of
resentment.
"I do not blame you for your suspicion," he said calmly, "although I
can assure you that I have never had any idea of having you watched. It
is not a course which could possibly have suggested itself to me, even
in my most unhappy moments."
She was puzzled--at once puzzled and interested.
"I am so glad to hear this," she said, "and of course I believe you, but
there the fact is. I think that you will agree with me that it is curious."
"Isn't it possible," he ventured to suggest, "that it is your companions
who are the object of this man's vigilance? You are not, I presume,
alone here?"
She eyed him a little defiantly.
"I am here," she announced, "with Mr. and Mrs. Draconmeyer."
He heard her without any change of expression, but somehow or other
it was easy to see that her news, although more than half expected, had
stung him.
"Mr. and Mrs. Draconmeyer," he repeated, with slight emphasis on the
latter portion of the sentence.
"Certainly! I am sorry," she went on, a moment late, "that my
companions do not meet with your approval. That, however, I could
scarcely expect, considering--"
"Considering what?" he insisted, watching her steadfastly.
"Considering all things," she replied, after a moment's pause.

"Mrs. Draconmeyer is still an invalid?"
"She is still an invalid."
The slightly satirical note in his question seemed to provoke a certain
defiance in her manner as she turned a little sideways towards him. She
moved her fan slowly backwards and forwards, her head was thrown
back, her manner was almost belligerent. He took up the challenge. He
asked her in plain words the question which his eyes had already
demanded.
"I find myself constrained to ask you," he said, in a studiously
measured tone, "by what means you became possessed of the pearls
you are wearing? I do not seem to remember them as your property."
Her eyes flashed.
"Don't you think," she returned, "that you are a little outstepping your
privileges?"
"Not in the least," he declared. "You are my wife, and although you
have defied me in a certain matter, you are still subject to my authority.
I see you wearing jewels in public of which you were certainly not
possessed a few months ago, and which neither your fortune nor
mine--"
"Let me set your mind at rest," she interrupted icily. "The pearls are not
mine. They belong to Mrs. Draconmeyer."
"Mrs. Draconmeyer!"
"I am wearing them," she continued, "at Linda's special request. She is
too unwell to appear in public and she is very seldom able to wear any
of her wonderful jewelry. It gives her pleasure to see them sometimes
upon other people."
He remained quite silent for several moments. He was, in reality,
passionately angry. Self-restraint, however, had become such a habit of

his that there were no indications of his condition save in the slight
twitchings of his long fingers and a tightening at the corners of his lips.
She, however, recognised the symptoms without difficulty.
"Since you defy my authority," he said, "may I ask whether my wishes
have any weight with you?"
"That depends," she replied.
"It is my earnest wish," he went on, "that you do not wear another
woman's jewelry, either in public or privately."
She appeared to reflect for a moment. In effect she was struggling
against a conviction that his request was reasonable.
"I am sorry," she said at last. "I see no harm whatever in my doing so in
this particular instance. It gives great pleasure to poor Mrs.
Draconmeyer to see her jewels and admire them, even if she is unable
to wear