"Wilkie Collins - The Evil Genius" - читать интересную книгу автора (Collins Wilkie)

up in his desk. "Call here this day week," he said--and returned to his book.
"You are not very polite," she told him, on leaving the room.
"At any rate," he answered, "I don't interrupt people when they are reading."
The week passed.
Repeating her visit, Mrs. Westerfield found him still seated at his desk, still
surrounded by his books, still careless of the polite attentions that he owed to
a lady.
"Well?" she asked, "have you earned your money?"
"I have found the clew."
"What is it?" she burst out. "Tell me the substance. I can't wait to read."
He went on impenetrably with what he had to say. "But there are some minor
combinations, which I have still to discover to my own satisfaction. I want a
few days more."
She positively refused to comply with this request. "Write down the substance of
it," she repeated, "and tell me what I owe you."
He handed her back her cipher for the third time.
The woman who could have kept her temper, under such provocation as this, may be
found when the mathematician is found who can square the circle, or the inventor
who can discover perpetual motion. With a furious look, Mrs. Westerfield
expressed her opinion of the philosopher in two words: "You brute!" She failed
to produce the slightest impression on him.
"My work," he proceeded, "must be well done or not done at all. This is
Saturday, eleventh of the month. We will say the evening of Wednesday next."
Mrs. Westerfield sufficiently controlled herself to be able to review her
engagements for the coming week. On Thursday, the delay exacted by the marriage
license would expire, and the wedding might take place. On Friday, the express
train conveyed passengers to Liverpool, to be in time for the departure of the
steamer for New York on Saturday morning. Having made these calculations, she
asked, with sulky submission, if she was expected to call again on the Wednesday
evening.
"No. Leave me your name and address. I will send you the cipher, interpreted, at
eight o'clock."
Mrs. Westerfield laid one of her visiting cards on his desk, and left him.
8.--The Diamonds.
The new week was essentially a week of events.
On the Monday morning, Mrs. Westerfield and her faithful James had their first
quarrel. She took the liberty of reminding him that it was time to give notice
of the marriage at the church, and to secure berths in the steamer for herself
and her son. Instead of answering one way or another, James asked how the Expert
was getting on.
"Has your old man found out where the diamonds are?"
"Not yet."
"Then we'll wait till he does."
"Do you believe my word?" Mrs. Westerfield asked curtly.
James Bellbridge answered, with Roman brevity, "No."
This was an insult; Mrs. Westerfield expressed her sense of it. She rose, and
pointed to the door. "Go back to America, as soon as you please," she said; "and
find the money you want--if you can."
As a proof that she was in earnest she took her copy of the cipher out of the
bosom of her dress, and threw it into the fire. "The original is safe in my old