The Third Round quotes

He noted also how nearly all the food was secured by half a dozen of the gulls, whilst the others said a lot but got nothing. And suddenly Mr. Edward Blackton smiled.

“Like life, my dear,” he said, slipping his arm round the waist of a girl who had just joined him at the window. “It’s the fool who shouts in this world: the wise man says nothing and acts.”

The girl lit a cigarette thoughtfully, and sat down on the ledge of the balcony. For a while her eyes followed the steamer puffing fussily away with its load of sightseers and its attendant retinue of gulls:

It was of the loose-leaf variety, and every page had entries on it in Blackton’s small, neat handwriting.

It was what he called his Who’s Who, but it differed from that excellent production in one marked respect. The people in Mr. Edward Blackton’s production had not compiled their own notices, which rendered it considerably more truthful even if less complimentary than the orthodox volume.

It was arranged alphabetically, and it contained an astounding wealth of information.

It was a great assistance in estimating character when meeting a man for the first time to know that his previous wife had divorced him for carrying on with the housemaid, and that he had then failed to marry the housemaid.

Nothing of blackmail in that: just a pointer as to character.

In the immense ramifications of Mr. Blackton’s activities it was of course impossible for him to keep all these details in his head. And so little by little the book had grown until it now comprised over three hundred pages.

“Mourning in the bride’s family,” said Drummond.

“The betting is a tenner to a dried banana that you expire within a week. Have some more cheese?”

“Don’t be absurd, Drummond. If you think you are going to persuade me—you’re wrong. I suppose that foolish boy Algy has been trying to enlist you on his side.”

It gratified his intellect; it pleased his artistic sense. Just as the sudden and unexpected acquisition of a tube of some rare pigment completes a painter’s joy, so this one detail completed Mr. Blackton’s.

That it consisted of a singularly cold-blooded murder is beside the point: all artists are a little peculiar.

And if fool men write fool letters, they must expect to suffer small annoyances of that sort. After all, reflected Mr. Blackton with commendable thoughtfulness, the world would endure Mr. Lewisham’s departure with almost callous fortitude.

Not a hitch anywhere; not even the suspicion of a check. Everything had gone like clockwork from beginning to end, thereby once again bearing out the main theory of his life, which was that the bigger the coup the safer it was.

It is the bank clerk with his petty defalcations who gets found out every time; the big man does it in millions and entertains Royalty on the proceeds.

But in his line of business, as in every other, to get big results the original outlay must be big. And it was on that point that Mr. Blackton felt so particularly pleased.

For though he had no doubt as to his ability to learn the process in a very short time, the thought of mixing chemicals and getting electric shocks bored him excessively.

Having got the dog, he had no intention of barking himself.

No—six months was the period he had in his mind; after which the real game would begin. Again would an eminent savant approach Sir Raymond Blantyre and his syndicate and make diamonds artificially; again would the services of Mr.

No hue-and-cry will be raised to find you. But you are not dead—far from it. You are, as I explained, my partially insane brother, whom no one is allowed to see. I admit that you are not insane nor are you my brother—but qu’importe.

It is not the truth that counts, but what people think is the truth.

I trust I make myself clear?”

Mr. Robinson stroked his whiskers even more caressingly.

“How fortunate it is,” he murmured, “that we don’t all think alike!”

“And if I refuse?” said the other.

He paused in his restless pacing up and down, and thoughtfully lit a cigar. His self-control was completely recovered; Mr. William Robinson was himself again. A hitch had occurred in an otherwise perfect plan—that was all.

And hitches were made to be unhitched.

“What is the name of your lawyer?” he said quietly.

“I thought he probably would,” said the old gentleman. “A very amusing little experiment in psychology. You might make a note of it, Professor.

The surest way of allaying suspicions is to arouse them thoroughly, and then prove that they are groundless.

Hence your somewhat sudden summons by aeroplane from Germany. I have arranged that you should return in the same manner tomorrow after the funeral—which you will attend this afternoon.”

Once I know for certain that I can do it myself—and I shall devote tomorrow to that exclusively—we will give up this house forthwith and go on board the yacht. A good idea of mine—that yacht, Freyder.

There is nothing like dying convincingly to enable one to live in comfort.

”

“

You’re not paid to think, you’re paid to do what you’re told,

” he remarked coldly. “Go, now, and get one of the others. And bring some rope when you return.”

And even when the Professor, squealing like a rabbit, had dashed on deck with Drummond after him, for an appreciable time Mr. Robinson had remained staring stupidly at the door.

Drummond sane was dangerous; Drummond mad was nerve-shattering.

And then he had pulled himself together just in time to dash on deck and see them both go overboard.

But don’t you see, old man, the folly of doing so? He would have spotted at once that we were not drowned; he would further have spotted that I was not as mad as I made out.

Chawing soap is the hell of a game,

” he added inconsequently. Then he went on again, emphasising each point on his fingers.

“But I think I know where he’ll turn up again. In what form or guise remains to be seen: our one and only Carl is never monotonous, to give him his due.

You see, Ted, you don’t seem to realise the intense advantage of being dead.

I didn’t till I heard him discussing it one night in his study. And now I’m dead, and the Professor’s dead, and dear Carl is dead. That’s why I bumped the poor old man’s head on the barnacles underneath your boat, as we changed sides.

No more would the dear child have to do these fatiguing things from necessity. If she chose to continue parting men from their money as a hobby it would be quite a different thing.

There is a vast difference between pleasure and business.

He sauntered across the lounge towards her, and realised at once that there was something of importance she wished to say to him. For a minute or two, however, they remained there chatting;

“

I never deny anything till I’m asked, and not always then.

”

“

The longer I live, my dear Sir Raymond, the more profoundly do I become impressed with how incredibly foolish a lot of people are.

But, in this case, do not let us call it foolishness. A kinder word is surely more appropriate to express your magnanimity. There are people who say that business men are hard. No—a thousand times, no. To present me with the secret was charming;

“

We have fought in the past without the police; we’ll finish without them.

And having made up my mind to that, it became necessary to think of some scheme by which the survivor should not suffer. If it’s you—well, you’ll get caught sooner or later; if it’s me, I certainly don’t propose to suffer in any way.