The Best British Short Stories of 1922 | Page 6

and so insufferably
asserted. In the second place, he was already smarting under the
indignity of being shown up about Lisbon. And then there suddenly
flashed through his mind the wretched incident when he had been
publicly snubbed by Justice Pengammon about the very same point;
and he knew that he was right each time. Damn Wych Street! He turned
on Mr. Sandeman.
"Oh, nonsense! You may know something about these--eastern cities;
you certainly know nothing about London if you make a statement like
that. Wych Street was a little further east of what is now the Gaiety

Theatre. It used to run by the side of the old Globe Theatre, parallel to
the Strand."
The dark moustache of Mr. Sandeman shot upwards, revealing a
narrow line of yellow teeth. He uttered a sound that was a mingling of
contempt and derision; then he drawled out:
"Really? How wonderful--to have such comprehensive knowledge!"
He laughed, and his small eyes fixed his rival. Lowes-Parlby flushed a
deep red. He gulped down half a glass of port and muttered just above a
whisper: "Damned impudence!" Then, in the rudest manner he could
display, he turned his back deliberately on Sandeman and walked out of
the room.
In the company of Adela he tried to forget the little contretemps. The
whole thing was so absurd--so utterly undignified. As though he didn't
know! It was the little accumulation of pin-pricks all arising out of that
one argument. The result had suddenly goaded him to--well, being rude,
to say the least of it. It wasn't that Sandeman mattered. To the devil
with Sandeman! But what would his future father-in-law think? He had
never before given way to any show of ill-temper before him. He
forced himself into a mood of rather fatuous jocularity. Adela was at
her best in those moods. They would have lots of fun together in the
days to come. Her almost pretty, not too clever face was dimpled with
kittenish glee. Life was a tremendous rag to her. They were expecting
Toccata, the famous opera-singer. She had been engaged at a very high
fee to come on from Covent Garden. Mr. Sandeman was very fond of
music. Adela was laughing, and discussing which was the most
honourable position for the great Sandeman to occupy. There came to
Lowes-Parlby a sudden abrupt misgiving. What sort of wife would this
be to him when they were not just fooling? He immediately dismissed
the curious, furtive little stab of doubt. The splendid proportions of the
room calmed his senses. A huge bowl of dark red roses quickened his
perceptions. His career.... The door opened. But it was not La Toccata.
It was one of the household flunkies. Lowes-Parlby turned again to his
inamorata.

"Excuse me, sir. His lordship says will you kindly go and see him in the
library?"
Lowes-Parlby regarded the messenger, and his heart beat quickly. An
uncontrollable presage of evil racked his nerve-centres. Something had
gone wrong; and yet the whole thing was so absurd, trivial. In a
crisis--well, he could always apologize. He smiled confidently at Adela,
and said:
"Why, of course; with pleasure. Please excuse me, dear."
He followed the impressive servant out of the room. His foot had
barely touched the carpet of the library when he realized that his worst
apprehensions were to be plumbed to the depths. For a moment he
thought Lord Vermeer was alone, then he observed old Stephen Garrit,
lying in an easy-chair in the corner like a piece of crumpled parchment.
Lord Vermeer did not beat about the bush. When the door was closed,
he bawled out, savagely:
"What the devil have you done?"
"Excuse me, sir. I'm afraid I don't understand. Is it Sandeman----?"
"Sandeman has gone."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Sorry! By God, I should think you might be sorry! You insulted him.
My prospective son-in-law insulted him in my own house!"
"I'm awfully sorry. I didn't realize----"
"Realize! Sit down, and don't assume for one moment that you continue
to be my prospective son-in-law. Your insult was a most intolerable
piece of effrontery, not only to him, but to me."
"But I----"
"Listen to me. Do you know that the government were on the verge of

concluding a most far-reaching treaty with that man? Do you know that
the position was just touch-and-go? The concessions we were prepared
to make would have cost the State thirty million pounds, and it would
have been cheap. Do you hear that? It would have been cheap! Bakkan
is one of the most vulnerable outposts of the Empire. It is a terrible
danger-zone. If certain powers can usurp our authority--and, mark you,
the whole blamed place is already riddled with this new pernicious
doctrine--you know what I mean--before we know where we are the
whole East will