The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

18 THE EVIL GENIUS. ing nor asked her to take a seat. When she attempted to enter into explanations relating to her errand he rudely interrupted her. ‘Show me your cipher,” he said; ‘‘I don’t promise to study it unless I find it worth my while.” Mrs. Westerfield was alarmed. ‘‘ Do you mean that you want a large sum of money ?” she asked. : ‘¢T mean that I don’t waste my time on easy ciphers invented fools.” "She laid the slip of paper on his desk. ‘¢Waste your timeon that,” shesaid, satirically, ‘‘ and see how you like it!” He examined it—first with his bleared, red-rimmed eyes; then with a magnifying glass. The only expression of opinion that escaped him was indicated by his actions. He shut up his book, and gloated over the signs and characters before him. Ona sudden he looked at Mrs. Westerfield. ‘*‘ How did you come by this ?” he asked. ‘¢ That’s no business of yours.” ‘‘In other words, you have reasons of your own for not an- swering my question ?”’ “ Yes.” Drawing his own inferences from that reply, he showed his three last-left vellow teeth in a horrid grin. ‘*I understand!” he said, speaking to himself. He looked at the cipher once more and put another question: ‘‘ Have you got a copy of this ?” It had not occurred to her totakea copy. He roseand pointed to his empty chair. His opinion of the cipher was, to all appear- ance, forced to express itself by the discovery that there was no copy. ‘“Do you know what might happen?’ he asked. ‘‘The only cipher that has puzzled me for the last ten years might be lost or stolen, or burned, if there was a fire in the house. You de- serve to be punished for your carelessness. Make the copy your- self.” This desirable suggestion (uncivilly as it was expressed) had its effect upon Mrs. Westerfield. Her marriage depended on that precious slip of paper. She was confirmed in her opinion that this very disagreeable man might nevertheless be a man to be trusted. ‘‘Shall you be long in finding out what it means?” she asked, when her task was completed. He carefully compared the copy with the original, and then he replied: ‘‘Days may pass before I can find the clew; I won’t attempt it unless you give me a week.” She pleaded for a shorter interval. He coolly handed back her papers; the original and the copy. ‘“‘“Try somebody else,” he suggested—and opened his book again. Mrs. Westerfield yielded with the worst possible grace. In granting him the week of delay she approached the subject of his fee for the second time, ‘* How much will it cost me?’ she inquired. EOMNICLOOOKKS (E(0) im