Here Comes the Toff Read Online Free Page A

liked the capitals – were rare at all times, and just then, as far as he knew, completely non-existent.
    The five minutes he had allotted for consideration being up, he donned his hat and coat again and went to the Carlton Club. By then it was well past midnight, but he was not surprised to find Sir Matthew Waterer, an old-middle-aged gentleman of considerable wealth, sitting in his favourite corner of the smoking-room, and holding forth – to the annoyance of most of his companions. Waterer was at that moment on his third favourite hobby-horse – the degeneracy of modern youth. It took Rollison five minutes to break in on his conversation – and thus earn the silent acclaim of a half circle of unwilling listeners – and another five to corner Waterer, and discuss his first favourite hobby-horse – Art.
    The Toff, a patient man, had eight minutes of Art before he led the conversation to Renway. Immediately he gathered that Waterer disliked Renway, and assumed that Renway’s collection of Italian paintings was superior to Waterer’s. It was. If the latter gentleman was to be believed, however, not a single item of Renway’s collection had been honestly come by. Rollison was silent for some moments in sheer admiration of a man who could so ruthlessly discard all common decency about a fellow-collector, and who held the laws of slander in such obvious contempt. Nevertheless, he had a clear picture of Renway in his mind.
    A rich man – a man of few friends – a man with a nephew likely to inherit most of his fortune. A big-business man who did not know that it was past time he retired. A misogynist – Waterer rolled the word out with obvious enjoyment, and the Toff smiled, as he remembered using it on himself when he had been talking to Anthea – and yet a man who was thinking of getting married. Rumour had it that he was engaged.
    The Toff raised a metaphorical eyebrow.
    Waterer was short, florid, grey-haired, with a veined nose and a thick, rasping voice. He waved his right hand as he talked, and kept the other in his pocket. He fixed the Toff with protuberant, fish-like eyes.
    â€œYes, Rollison, at his age. Obscene, I consider it. Marriage is a thing for the young, and …”
    â€œAnd who,” asked Rollison gently, “is the lucky lady?”
    â€œA woman named Curtis, I’m told. Haven’t thought much about it.” Waterer then proceeded to prove that he had made every inquiry possible short of a personal approach to Renway, and further described the lady as no better than a demi-mondaine . He did not use the word, but something far more crude. He admitted – not without a suggestion of lasciviousness – that she was good to look at, and his description of her fitted Irma Cardew.
    Which suggested that Irma was either (a) seriously contemplating marriage, or (b) planning a large-scale fraud on the millionaire. The latter was the more likely.
    It was nearly one o’clock when Rollison got home, to find Jolly waiting for him, with a report.
    Jolly had reached the millionaire’s St. John’s Wood house ten minutes before Irma had come out, to be driven away by Renway’s chauffeur. She had entered a flat near Park Lane, which spoke of money; discreet inquiries of the night porter had elicited the fact that she had been there for some weeks, that she was next door to a man named Kohn, and that she had a habit of staying at Kohn’s flat at hours which were not considered proper.
    And thus the Toff became interested in the man named Kohn, but not as interested as he would have been had he known a little more of Kohn’s past life.
    For Kohn was not an honest man.
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Chapter Three
Anthea’s Day Out
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    Had there been no Jolly, Anthea would doubtless have been disappointed.
    Which does not suggest that she was enamoured of Jolly, for, in fact, she considered him a vaguely interesting freak, and could not understand why