Marie Belloc Lowndes

“ Vissering did not already belong to a club in his own country. He is very old-fashioned, as you know, but there is no harm in him.”
The woman looked dubiously at Lily. “Ah, Monsieur le Comte, you do not know the things that I know! But there—I will say nothing.”
After Madame Sansot had left them the Count turned to Lily: “This fellow Vissering is truly a queer kind of man,” he muttered. “He was one of the war profiteers of Holland. That makes him feel he has the right to be insolent. You must not notice his odd manner.”
Lily smiled.
“Of course I won't, Uncle Angelo!” ”

“ Then he fell into one of his long silences.
“Have you not forgotten, Uncle Angelo, the message to the Marchese?” asked Lily at last. “I mean about Mr. Vissering and the Club.”
“I have thought the matter over,” said the Count gravely, “and I do not feel I can propose such a plan to the Marchese. Mr. Vissering would be out of place in the Club.
“You also said something about a car for to-night,” said Lily.
“I have changed my mind about that too. I do not care to ask favours of people. I shall take one of those nice taxis that look like a private car, from one of the hotels.” ”

“ The old man seemed to be hesitating. “I do not know how I should find your house,” he said at last. “I should not care to take a taxi. Once you are in a taxi you are no longer your own master! I am one of those men who believe in their own good right arm, as our friends the Germans used to say. I like to carry my fortune—or as much of it as I have with me—on my person.
“There need be no question of a taxi,” said the Count quickly. “I've been offered the loan of a motor by a friend. ”