Edgar Wallace

“ It is queer what things impress one. Smith always remembered that saloon by its carpet—an immense expanse of purple, heavily embroidered in gold, the ornamentation consisting of fleur-de-lis and a cipher “C.” The next thing that impressed him was a beautiful coat of arms above the big open fireplace. Two of its four quarterings held the lily of France, one, three gold bars, and the fourth a bull upon a golden ground.
Cæsar took off his wet cloak and flung it on the back of the chair, strolled to the fireplace, switched on an electric radiator, and stood with his back to the glow. ”

“ Also he would have been on his knees to me all his life, for he has lived luxuriously, he has money to spend at the races—I have even had him taught French.”
“Money doesn't buy loyalty, anyway,” said Smith curtly.
“I agree,” nodded Cæsar. “And yet money buys most of the things that are desirable in this world. It even buys the appearance and the consequences of loyalty. Money buys allies in war, and a little more money would buy their desertion. It could buy my election to the senate of France if I were a Frenchman—and if I did not hate the French,” he added. ”

“ Vive la France!”
Valentine frowned as though he were annoyed at the flippancy in the tone of his guest. Then he laughed and nodded. “I think you're the man I want,” he said. “That is the attitude to adopt toward life. But never forget, Smith, that you must not laugh at authority. Authority is sublime, beyond ridicule, cruel, unjust, tragic, but never humorous.”
Smith was slipping off his wet coat as the other spoke. “Put it before the fire,” said Cæsar. “Better still, throw it out through that door.” He pointed to a door to the right of the fireplace. ”