There was something
which they lacked. With that something I am hoping to provide
you to-night. Thank you, Sir Edgar," he murmured, leaning down
towards his neighbour.
He held his cigarette in the flame of a match which the other had
kindled. Francis, who was watching intently, was puzzled at the
expression with which for a moment, as he straightened himself,
Sir Timothy glanced down the room, seeking for Lady Cynthia's
eyes. In a sense it was as though he were seeking for something
he needed--approbation, sympathy, understanding.
"Our hobby, as you know, has been reality," he continued. "That
is what we have not always been able to achieve. Tonight I offer
you reality. There are two men here, one an East End coster, the
other an Italian until lately associated with an itinerant
vehicle of musical production. These two men have not outlived
sensation as I fancy so many of us have. They hate one another
to the death. I forget their surnames, but Guiseppe has stolen
Jim's girl, is living with her at the present moment, and
proposes to keep her. Jim has sworn to have the lives of both of
them. Jim's career, in its way, is interesting to us. He has
spent already six years in prison for manslaughter, and a year
for a brutal assault upon a constable. Guiseppe was tried in his
native country for a particularly fiendish murder, and escaped,
owing, I believe, to some legal technicality.
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