Americans -- England -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Millionaires -- Fiction
‘You aren’t satisfied with me, sir?’
‘To be frank, Jules, I think--I think you--er--wink too much. And I
think that it is regrettable when a head waiter falls into a habit of
taking white ribbons from the handles of bedroom doors at three in the
morning.’
Jules started slightly.
‘I see how it is, sir. You wish me to go, and one pretext, if I may use
the term, is as good as another. Very well, I can’t say that I’m
surprised. It sometimes happens that there is incompatibility of temper
between a hotel proprietor and his head waiter, and then, unless one of
them goes, the hotel is likely to suffer. I will go, Mr Racksole. In
fact, I had already thought of giving notice.’
The millionaire smiled appreciatively. ‘What wages do you require in
lieu of notice? It is my intention that you leave the hotel within an
hour.’
‘I require no wages in lieu of notice, sir. I would scorn to accept
anything. And I will leave the hotel in fifteen minutes.’
‘Good-day, then. You have my good wishes and my admiration, so long as
you keep out of my hotel.’
Racksole got up. ‘Good-day, sir. And thank you.’
‘By the way, Jules, it will be useless for you to apply to any other
first-rate European hotel for a post, because I shall take measures
which will ensure the rejection of any such application.’
‘Without discussing the question whether or not there aren’t at least
half a dozen hotels in London alone that would jump for joy at the
chance of getting me,’ answered Jules, ‘I may tell you, sir, that I
shall retire from my profession.’
‘Really! You will turn your brains to a different channel.’
‘No, sir. I shall take rooms in Albemarle Street or Jermyn Street, and
just be content to be a man-about-town. I have saved some twenty
thousand pounds--a mere trifle, but sufficient for my needs, and I shall
now proceed to enjoy it. Pardon me for troubling you with my personal
affairs. And good-day again.’
That afternoon Racksole went with Felix Babylon first to a firm of
solicitors in the City, and then to a stockbroker, in order to carry out
the practical details of the purchase of the hotel.
‘I mean to settle in England,’ said Racksole, as they were coming back.
‘It is the only country--’ and he stopped.
‘The only country?’
‘The only country where you can invest money and spend money with a
feeling of security. In the United States there is nothing worth
spending money on, nothing to buy. In France or Italy, there is no real
security.’
‘But surely you are a true American?’ questioned Babylon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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