Secret of Chimneys - Agatha Christie [20]
George still shook his head.
‘I don’t like it,’ he persisted. ‘I don’t like it.’
‘Well, never mind, George dear. You didn’t come here to talk about blackmailers. What did you come here for, by the way? Correct answer: “To see you!” Accent on the you, and press her hand with significance unless you happen to have been eating heavily buttered muffin, in which case it must all be done with the eyes.’
‘I did come to see you,’ replied George seriously. ‘And I am glad to find you alone.’
‘“Oh, George, this is so sudden.” Says she, swallowing a currant.’
‘I wanted to ask a favour of you. I have always considered you, Virginia, as a woman of considerable charm.’
‘Oh, George!’
‘And also as a woman of intelligence!’
‘Not really? How well the man knows me.’
‘My dear Virginia, there is a young fellow arriving in England tomorrow whom I should like you to meet.’
‘All right, George, but it’s your party–let that be clearly understood.’
‘You could, I feel sure, if you chose, exercise your considerable charm.’
Virginia cocked her head a little on one side.
‘George dear, I don’t “charm” as a profession, you know. Often I like people–and then, well, they like me. But I don’t think I could set out in cold blood to fascinate a helpless stranger. That sort of thing isn’t done, George, it really isn’t. There are professional sirens who would do it much better than I should.’
‘That is out of the question, Virginia. This young man, he is a Canadian, by the way, of the name of McGrath–’
‘“A Canadian of Scottish descent.” Says she, deducing brilliantly.’
‘Is probably quite unused to the higher walks of English society. I should like him to appreciate the charm and distinction of a real English gentlewoman.’
‘Meaning me?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Why?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said why? You don’t boom the real English gentlewoman with every stray Canadian who sets foot upon our shores. What is the deep idea, George? To put it vulgarly, what do you get out of it?’
‘I cannot see that that concerns you, Virginia.’
‘I couldn’t possibly go out for an evening and fascinate unless I knew all the whys and wherefores.’
‘You have a most extraordinary way of putting things, Virginia. Anyone would think–’
‘Wouldn’t they? Come on, George, part with a little more information.’
‘My dear Virginia, matters are likely to be a little strained shortly in a certain Central European nation. It is important, for reasons which are immaterial, that this–Mr–er–McGrath should be brought to realize that the restoring of the monarchy in Herzoslovakia is imperative to the peace of Europe.’
‘The part about the peace of Europe is all bosh,’ said Virginia calmly, ‘but I’m all for monarchies every time, especially for a picturesque people like the Herzoslovakians. So you’re running a king in the Herzoslovakian Stakes, are you? Who is he?
George was reluctant to answer, but did not see his way to avoid the question. The interview was not going at all as he had planned. He had foreseen Virginia as a willing, docile tool, receiving his hints gratefully, and asking no awkward questions. This was far from being the case. She seemed determined to know all about it and this George, ever doubtful of female discretion, was determined at all costs to avoid. He had made a mistake. Virginia was not the woman for the part. She might, indeed, cause serious trouble. Her account of her interview with the blackmailer had caused him grave apprehension. A most undependable creature, with no idea of treating serious matters seriously.
‘Prince Michael Obolovitch,’ he replied, as Virginia was obviously waiting for an answer to her question. ‘But please let that go no further.’
‘Don’t be absurd, George. There are all sorts of hints in the papers already, and articles cracking up the Obolovitch dynasty and talking about the murdered Nicholas IV as though he were a cross between a saint and a hero instead of