"I
wish I could feel the same emotion in those I am trusting to guard my interests." He jumped to his feet and paced up and down the chamber.
"In all candor, I am troubled. I wonder if my associates are as truly dedicated to my goals as they claim." He halted beside the table.
"I must be logical. Can I truly trust Namour? Will he subordinate his own interests to my goals through loyalty?"
"The answer would seem to be no," said Glawen.
"I tend to agree," said Floreste.
"As for Smonny, she also claims to share my ideals, but there is small evidence in this direction at Yipton. When she thinks "Araminta' she thinks 'vengeance," not glorious new honors. Again let us be brutally realistic: if she had access to my money, would she work toward the new Orpheum or would she invest in flyers and weapons? What is your opinion?"
With great effort Glawen managed to conceal his stupefaction. Could Ploreste be saying what he seemed to be saying? Glawen managed to say: "My opinion is the same as yours."
Floreste, pacing back and forth, paid Glawen no heed.
"Perhaps I have been too trusting. My account at the Bank of Mircea includes lot just my personal moneys, but also funds listed to Ogmo Enter- arises. This is an account used by Smonny for her convenience, and ncludes some very large recent deposits. Your litigation of course Toze these funds and denied them to Smonny, causing her great anxiety. Namour prevailed upon me to write out a will, bequeathing ill properties to Smonny, who would then turn over my personal fortune to the Fine Arts Committee, and this is where my doubts arise. Would she in fact do so?"
"At a guess," said Glawen, "I would think not."
"I incline in this same direction. My new Orpheum will be realized Mtly in the context of present conditions. I wonder " Floreste stared ihoughtfully down at the table.
"Perhaps it is not too late to make a iew small changes."
"Why not? Call in Namour and retrieve your will."
Floreste gave a bark of sour laughter.
"Is it not clear? But no matter. [ am only concerned with consequences and now I see a way to assure my goals. Just as a matter of curiosity, how did you learn so much ibout Smonny? It was supposedly a great secret. Zaa told you, of our se but I wonder why."
In this case falsehood was easier and cleaner than the truth.
"Zaa planned to kill me, after I had serviced enough of her females. She look a perverse pleasure in telling me anything I wanted to know."
"Aha!
"Perverse' is the proper word for Zaa. I could tell a hundred strange tales in this connection. It was Zaa who conceived the Thurben Island events, that she might teach her torpid Zubenites to breed. At least that was the pretext. Sibil contrived the tactics, and since she had what is called a love-hate kink in her nature for pretty young girls, she did her part with zeal. Smonny provided the girls, indifferent to their fate. And I? I ignored the affair, and turned my back on details, so long as I was paid the money, and there was little enough remaining after Smonny took her share. Though now, is it not ironic? All the money is in my account, and Smonny has never even collected her expenses."
"It is a good joke on Smonny," said Glawen.
"So it is! Though she has absolutely no sense of the absurd."
"How did she arrive at her present position? Zaa told me nothing of this."
"Smonny married a rich rancher, a certain Titus Zigonie, on the world Rosalia. The two visited Yipton to contract for Yip labor. Old Calyactus was then the Oomphaw. By some means they inveigled Calyactus into visiting them on Rosalia. Poor old Calyactus was never heard from again.
"Smonny and Titus returned to Yipton. Titus began calling himself Titus Pompo. But he had no taste for authority and the real Oomphaw was Smonny--a position which brought her untold pleasure.
"Namour somehow became involved in the situation--perhaps as Smonny's lover? Who knows? Namour is a man of iron discipline and no scruples whatever--a dangerous combination. That is all I know."
For a period he paced up and down. Glawen said: "Our transaction is complete, and now--" Floreste made an imperious gesture.
"Not yet! Grant me sdll a few moments."
"Certainly; just as you like."
Floreste strode back and forth.
"For years I have been a man of far vision; my gaze has ranged the horizons and meanwhile I ignored the ground at my feet. Now, in these final hours, I must make changes." He went to the table, and seated himself; taking up pen and paper he indi ted a short document with great care. He raised his head and listened.
"Who is out in the front office?"
"Marcus Diffin, or so I suppose."
"Someone else is with him. Ask both persons to step in here."
Glawen rapped on the door. Marcus Diffin looked through the peephole.
"What do you want?"
"Who is out there?"
"It is Bodwyn Wook."
"Floreste wants the two of you to step in for a moment."
The door opened; Marcus Diffin and Bodwyn Wook entered the chamber.
