Mr. Grimston shot back into his seat again, while Mr. van Tromp wiped his large, circular glasses.
"'Dear Mr. van Tromp,' she begins, 'I am most anxious to talk to you on very important business, and would take it as a favor if you would let me call on Tuesday morning and see you very privately. Yours sincerely, Diane Eveleth.' That's all. Now, what do you make of it?"
The straight smile, which was all the facial expression Mr. Grimston ever allowed himself, became visible between the lines of his closely clipped mustache and beard. He took his time before speaking, enjoying the knowledge that this was one of those social junctures in which he had his senior partner so conspicuously at a disadvantage.
"It's a bad business, I'm afraid," he said, as though summing up rather than beginning.
"That, I fear, is painfully evident. You must have heard of the Eveleth smash a couple of months ago. Or--let me see!--I think it was just when you were in New York. No; you'd be likely not to hear of it. The Eveleths have so carefully cut their American acquaintance for so many years that they've created a kind of vacuum around themselves, out of which the noise of their doings doesn't easily penetrate. They belong to that class of American Parisians who pose for going only into French society."
"Mrs. Grimston could tell you all about them, of course. Equally at home as she is in the best French and American circles, she hears a great many things she'd rather not hear."
"Unfortunately a woman in her position, with a daughter like Marion, is obliged to listen. But that's rather the end of the story--"
"And I want the beginning, Grimston, if you don't mind. I want to know why this Diane should be after me."
"She's after money," Mr. Grimston declared, bluntly. "She's after money, and you'd better let me manage her. It would save you the trouble of the refusal you'll be obliged to make."
Mr. Grimston stiffened himself in his chair and cleared his throat.
"Diane Eveleth," he stated, with slow, significant emphasis, "is an extremely fascinating woman. She has probably turned more men round her little finger than any other woman in Paris."
"Is that to her credit or her discredit?"
"I don't want to say anything against Mrs. Eveleth," Mr. Grimston protested. "I wish she hadn't come near us at all. As it is, you must be forewarned."
