The Port of Missing Men by Meredith Nicholson
page 27 of 323 (08%)
page 27 of 323 (08%)
|
"Ah, my dear Shirley, and Dick! Can it be possible! I only heard by the merest chance that you were here. But Switzerland is the real meeting-place of the world." The young Americans greeted the new-comer cordially. A waiter placed a chair for him, and took his hat. Arthur Singleton was an American, though he had lived abroad so long as to have lost his identity with any particular city or state of his native land. He had been an attaché of the American embassy at London for many years. Administrations changed and ambassadors came and went, but Singleton was never molested. It was said that he kept his position on the score of his wide acquaintance; he knew every one, and he was a great peddler of gossip, particularly about people in high station. The children of Hilton Claiborne were not to be overlooked. He would impress himself upon them, as was his way; for he was sincerely social by instinct, and would go far to do a kindness for people he really liked. "Ah me! You have arrived opportunely, Miss Claiborne. There's mystery in the air--the great Stroebel is here--under this very roof and in a dreadfully bad humor. He is a dangerous man--a very dangerous man, but failing fast. Poor Austria! Count Ferdinand von Stroebel can have no successor--he's only a sort of holdover from the nineteenth century, and with him and his Emperor out of the way--what? For my part I see only dark days ahead;" and he concluded with a little sigh that implied crumbling thrones and falling dynasties. "We met him in Vienna," said Shirley Claiborne, "when father was there before the Ecuador Claims Commission. He struck me as being a delightful |
|