When it was over she lay beside Joseph for a while, reflecting on her victory.
'Extraordinary night,' he murmured sleepily.
'Yes,' she said. 'That awful girl.'
'Mmm,' he grunted. 'Very striking-looking ... arrogant and willful ... thinks she's as good as anyone ... lovely figure ... just like you at that age.'
Augusta was mortally offended. 'Joseph!' she said. 'How could you say such an awful thing?'
He made no reply, and she saw that he was asleep.
Enraged, she threw back the covers, got out of bed and stamped out of the room.
She did not go back to sleep that night.
Section 6
MICKY MIRANDA'S LODGINGS IN CAMBERWELL consisted of two rooms in the house of a widow with a grown son. None of his high-class friends had ever visited him there, not even Edward Pilaster. Micky played the role of a young man-about-town on a very tight budget, and elegant accommodation was one of the things he could manage without.
At nine o'clock each morning the landlady brought coffee and hot rolls for him and Papa. Over breakfast, Micky explained how he had caused Tonio Silva to lose a hundred pounds he did not have. He did not expect his father to sing his praises, but he did hope for a grudging acknowledgment of his ingenuity. However, Papa was not impressed. He blew on his coffee and slurped it noisily. 'So, has he gone back to Cordova?'
'Not yet, but he will.'
'You hope. So much trouble, and still you only hope he will go.'
Micky felt wounded. 'I'll seal his fate today,' he protested.
'When I was your age ...'
'You would have slit his throat, I know. But this is London, not Santamaria Province, and if I go around cutting people's throats they'll hang me.'
'There are times when you have no choice.'
'But there are other times when it's better to tread softly, Papa. Think of Samuel Pilaster, and his milk-and-water objections to dealing in guns. I got him out of the way without bloodshed, didn't I?' In fact Augusta had done it, but Micky had not told Papa that.
'I don't know,' Papa said stubbornly. 'When do I get the rifles?'
It was a sore point. Old Seth was still alive, still Senior Partner of Pilasters Bank. It was August. In September the winter snow would start to melt on the mountains of Santamaria. Papa wanted to go home--with his weapons. As soon as Joseph became Senior Partner, Edward would put the deal through and the guns would be shipped. But old Seth clung on with infuriating stubbornness to his post and his life.
'You'll get them soon, Papa,' said Micky. 'Seth can't last much longer.'
'Good,' said Papa, with the smug expression of one who has won an argument.
Micky buttered a roll. It had always been like this. He could never please his father no matter how he tried.
He turned his mind to the day ahead. Tonio now owed money he could never pay. The next step was to turn a problem into a crisis. He wanted Edward and Tonio to quarrel publicly. If he could arrange that, Tonio's disgrace would become general knowledge and he would be obliged to resign from his job and go home to Cordova. That would put him comfortably out of the reach of David Middleton.
Micky wanted to do all this without making an enemy of Tonio. For he had another purpose: he wanted Tonio's job. Tonio could make matters difficult, if he felt so inclined, by maligning Micky to the minister. Micky wanted to persuade him to smooth the path.
The whole situation was complicated by the history of his relationship with Tonio. At school Tonio had hated and feared Micky; more recently Tonio had been admiring of him. Now Micky needed to become Tonio's best friend--at the same time as he ruined his life.
While Micky was brooding over the tricky day ahead of him, there was a knock at the door to the room and the landlady announced a visitor. A moment later Tonio came in.
Micky had been planning to call on him after breakfast. This would save him the trouble.
'Sit down, have some coffee,' he said cheerfully. 'Bad luck last night! Still, winning and losing, that's what cards are all about.'
Tonio bowed to Papa and sat down. He looked as if he had not slept. 'I lost more than I can afford,' he said.
Papa grunted impatiently. He had no patience with people feeling sorry for themselves, and anyway he despised the Silva family as lily-livered city dwellers who lived by patronage and corruption.
Micky pretended sympathy and said solemnly: 'I'm sorry to hear that.'
'You know what it means. In this country, a man who doesn't pay his gambling debts isn't a gentleman. And a man who isn't a gentleman can't be a diplomat. I might have to resign and go home.'
Exactly, thought Micky; but he said in a sorrowful voice: 'I do see the problem.'
Tonio went on: 'You know what fellows are like about these things--if you don't pay up the next day you're already under suspicion. But it would take me years to pay back a hundred pounds. That's why I've come to you.'
'I don't understand,' said Micky, though he understood perfectly.
'Will you give me the money?' Tonio pleaded. 'You're Cordovan, not like these English; you don't condemn a man for one mistake. And I would pay you back, eventually.'
'If I had the money I'd give it to you,' said Micky. 'I wish I were that well off.'
Tonio looked at Papa, who stared at him coldly and said simply: 'No.'
Tonio hung his head. 'I'm such a fool about gambling,' he said in a hollow voice. 'I don't know what I'm going to do. If I go home in disgrace I won't be able to face my family.'
Micky said thoughtfully: 'Perhaps there is something else I can do to help.'
Tonio brightened. 'Oh, please, anything!'
'Edward and I are good friends, as you know. I could speak to him on your behalf, explain the circumstances, and ask him to be lenient--as a personal favor to me.'
'Would you?' Tonio's face was suffused with hope.
'I'll ask him to wait for his money, and not to tell anyone. I don't say he'll agree to it, mind you. The Pilasters have money by the bucketful but they're a hard-headed bunch. I'll try, anyway.'
Tonio clasped Micky's hand. 'I don't know how to thank you,' he said fervently. 'I'll
