'Let me understand. Would you propose to die to-morrow?'
'I'd propose to begin. This show's got to be worked artistic. I can't
drop down dead as if I'd had a fit. Maybe some keen-nosed relative
might start sniffing. Might want a coroner's inquest or something of
that. Holy Paul! Where'd I be if they started a post mortem? I'd have
to quit being dead so that I could start explaining. This job'll have
to be done in a workmanlike manner; my professional reputation is at
stake. To-morrow I begin by sending you a message.'
'A message?--of what nature?'
'Why, I go to an hotel, just well enough not to be refused admission,
and ill enough to take to my bed directly I'm inside. If they turn
shirty, and remark that that hotel is not a hospital, I'll tell them
that I'm the Marquis of Twickenham. I shan't choose too swell a place,
so that they may be proud of having the Marquis of Twickenham on the
premises, if it's only to die there. There'll be a pretty bill for the
estate to pay: because a funeral at an hotel comes dear. Then I send
you a message: a note, say--"Dear Smith"----'
'Don't call me Smith.'
'No? Then what'll I call you? Brown?'
'I suppose this introducing myself is part of the farce. If you do
write such a note, call me Douglas.'
'That's all?'
'My name is Douglas Howarth. You are sure you have never heard that
name before?'
'Might have. I'll say, "Dear Douglas Howarth, I have returned to die.
Come and smooth my pillow at the end. So that I may die grasping
friendship's hand. Your long lost Twickenham."'
'A note of that kind would hardly be in keeping with the supposed
writer's well-known character.'
'No? Then what price this? "Dear Doug, I'm dying. If you have a moment
to spare you might look in. Twick."'
'That's better. Oddly enough he used to call me "Doug," and sign
himself "Twick."'
'That's so? Why shouldn't he have done? You hurry to my suffering
side, bringing with you five hundred pounds in notes, which you slip
into my clammy palm.'
'I should prefer to give you the thousand pounds afterwards.'
'I shouldn't. Half first, then the rest. If you don't bring five
hundred when you come--I'll recover.'
This was spoken with an accent which suggested varied possibilities.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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