And Mr. van Koppen, as he drove along, was thinking of that cheque; he
was converting the dollars into francs. They made rather an awkward
sum. He decided to round it off, if only for the sake of appearances; a
further reason for not sending the cheque till the last moment,
together with a carefully worded letter to allay the Count's scruples.
The old fellow might otherwise return the balance, in a fit of
conscientiousness. Like himself, Count Caloveglia was infernally, and
very properly, punctilious--in small matters.
Yes, there was some fun, at times, in being a millionaire. Or a
sculptor either, for that matter! For it evidently took some doing--a
little thing like that Locri Faun. It took some doing. And it was worth
doing: that was the main point. A man who could bamboozle Sir Herbert
Street--such a man deserved to be supported. And what if the truth
ultimately leaked out? Had he not acted with the best intentions, under
the written advice of an expert? Far from feeling uneasy, Mr. van
Koppen smiled at the thought of how his millions, backed by the opinion
of a connoisseur of international reputation, had enabled him to play
yet one more trick upon that great Republic whose fathomless
gullibility no one had ever exploited to a better purpose than
himself.
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