"There must be a mistake,"
he observed. "I don't even know this name of yours.
I never heard it before."
The other's mobile face twisted itself in a grimace
of incredulity. He had a conspicuously wide mouth,
and its trick of sidelong extension at this moment
was very unpleasant. "Ah, Herr Je! He never heard it,"
he ejaculated, turning nervously to the Marquis.
"Would to the good God you never had!" he told Thorpe,
with suppressed excitement.
Lord Chaldon, his own voice shaken a little, interposed
with an explanation. "My friend is the head--the
respected head--of the firm of Fromentin Brothers.
I think you have--have dealings with them."
Thorpe, after a furtive instant of bewilderment,
opened his mouth. "Oh! I see," he said. "I know what you
mean now. With the French pronunciation, I didn't recognize
the name. I've always heard it called 'Fromen'-tin'
here in London. Oh, yes, of course--Fromen'tin Brothers."
His lips shut tight again at this. The listeners had
caught no helpful clue from the tone of his words.
They exchanged a glance, and then M. Fromentin spoke.
"Mr. Thorpe," he began, slowly, with an obvious effort
at self-repression. "It is a very simple story. Our house
is an old one. My father's grandfather organized the
finance of the commissariat of General Bonaparte in Egypt.
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