Cards of Identity Read Online Free PDF Page B

put up with in the way of duplicity, disloyalty, even broken-heartedness, and yet become most unforgiving where a banknote is in dispute. Do not hesitate to silence me, my dear Miss Paradise, if you find I am too personal.’
    ‘I am finding it most helpful,’ said Miss Paradise frankly. ‘The only thing that is troubling me is that I have never thought of my brother in the way I have described him. He seems like two persons now, and I’m afraid that you would never recognize the real one if you saw the described one. Or do I mean it the other way round?’
    ‘We are trying, you see, to discover which is the right way round, Miss Paradise. If we hit on the right way, we are pretty sure to find the right man at the end of it, regardless of any wrongness that may have crept into his description en route. I’m sure you see that. Now, here is a very blunt question indeed which may take us a step farther. Has your brother, despite the fact that you “rub along”, ever suggested breaking off connexions? To put it cruelly, have you ever thought that he might suddenly walk off, taking the cash-box with him?’
    At this, Miss Paradise turned quite faint. ‘There have been times,’ she said at last in a cracked voice, ‘when we have quarrelled and …’ But she said no more: panic was making her eyes bulge.
    ‘Of course, were he to do so,’ said the captain easily, ‘the tragedy would be purely an emotional one. A little loose cash would be neither here nor there, since your capital would be safely in the bank.’
    ‘No! No!’ screamed Miss Paradise: ‘not safely at all! It’s a joint account!’
    ‘Good heavens!’ exclaimed the captain, quite losing his calm. ‘Now that is quite another matter!’
    ‘I am destitute!’ she screamed, filling her lungs to the full to give her emptiness true measure.
    ‘Not as long as I live, by God!’ he answered, suddenly striking his fist on his knee.
    But Miss Paradise had ceased to be impressionable. Not the captain, not the palatial room, not the fairy-dream of having escaped from her ordinary self were as horrifying as the sudden conviction that reality had escaped from her. Seizing her bag, she made a rush for the door.
    ‘Miss Paradise!’ cried the captain, springing after her.
    ‘Bank! Police! Let me go!’
    ‘Not in this condition! Why, none of this may be true of your brother!’
    ‘It is true! Some sixth sense tells me! I know! I know!’
    ‘That your brother is a thief?’
    ‘Yes! Yes! Instinct tells me! He is worse than thief! He has murdered me! He has always wanted to. I have always known. Let me go this minute. I will see him in prison!’
    ‘Let Beaufort drive you,’ exclaimed the captain, gripping her wrist. ‘Don’t you see it will be quicker ?’
    ‘Then get him, get him!’
    The captain released her and ran to the speaking-tube. As he raised it, slow, steady footsteps sounded outside the door.
    A butler entered with a silver tray. Gently, he advanced across the room, and with each step he took, Miss Paradise’s frantic face drew tighter and tighter. When he was past her, she gave a plaintive, incredulous cry: ‘That’s him, isn’t it? Henry?’
    ‘Tell Master Beaufort to bring the car round immediately,’ said the captain into the speaking-tube. ‘We are going after a bank-robber. No delay, please: he is probably miles away already.’
    The butler, having laid down his tray, turned and began slowly his march back to the door. Clearly, he was well-fitted for his office, for though Miss Paradise’s eyes ran up and down him madly and one trembling finger pointed straight at his face, he continued his sober walk unmoved.
    ‘Who are you?’ screamed Miss Paradise suddenly.
    The butler halted, as if such a question was more than flesh could bear, and looked hopefully to his master. ‘A little sal volatile, Jellicoe,’said the captain in a low voice. ‘Just knock on the door and leave it outside.’
    The butler bowed. ‘Beaufort will be