"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Madelaine 2 - In the Face of Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

mention of funds she had in France, Italy, and Switzerland.
"And you have not squandered it, it would seem. Very prudent. Unusual, you will permit
me to say, in a young woman." He looked at her with increasing interest. "What do you want me
to do for you? How much were you planning to transfer to this bank? In dollars?"
"I would think that twenty-five thousand would be sufficient," she said. "In dollars."
He coughed once. "Yes; I should think so. More than sufficient Unless you are
determined to cut a dash in society, you will find the sum ample. That's five times my annual
salary." He confided this with a chuckle and a scowl. "Very well, Madame," he went on affably.
"I will put the transaction in order. In the meantime, you will be free to draw upon funds up to…
shall we say, five thousand dollars?"
Madelaine nodded. "That would be quite satisfactory, since you are able to contrive to
live on it for a year, though prices here are much higher than I anticipated. Still, I should be able
to practice good economy."
"You certainly have until now, given the state of your account." He cocked his head, a
speculative light in his eyes, his long fingers moving restlessly as if searching for a pencil or a
cigar. "Unless these funds have only recently been passed to your control? In that case, I would
recommend you seek an able advisor, to guide you in the matters of investment management-"
"Mr. Sherman-" she interrupted, only to be cut off.
"Forgive me. None of my business. But I can't help but wonder how it comes about that
you want twenty-five thousand now and have spent less than half of that in the last seven years?"
He braced his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, his chin propped on his joined hands.
"My studies did not require it," she answered, determined not to be affronted by his
directness.
"Ah. You were at school," he said, his expression lighten-ing. He slapped his hands on the
blotter and sat back, his question answered to his satisfaction.
"Something of the sort," she responded, in a manner she thought was almost worthy of
Saint-Germain.
San Francisco, 23 May,
Mrs. Mullinton has given me the address of an excellent dressmaker, and the first of my
new clothes should be delivered tomorrow. There are six other ensembles on order, to be
delivered in three weeks. Once I have settled in, I will need to order more… I suppose it is worth
getting back into corsets for the pleasure of wearing silk again.
There is a private concert tomorrow afternoon that Mrs. Mullinton wishes to attend and
has asked me to accompany her to. Now that she knows I have money and social position, she is
determined to make the most of both of them, convinced I will add to her consequence in the
town. If I am to remain here for three or four months, I will need to enlarge my acquaintances or
risk speculation and gossip, which would do me no good at all… Perhaps I will find someone
who is to my liking, whom I please, who is willing to be very, very discreet. In a place like this,
lapses are not easily forgotten by anyone…
My chests are at the Jas. Banner Warehouse near where Columbus and Montgomery
Streets converge. I must make arrangements to retrieve them soon, not only because I am low on
my native earth, but because the costs for storing the chests are outrageous. I had rather keep
them in the safe at Lucas and Turner for such sums…
The house on Jackson Street was a fine, ambitious pile, made of local redwood timber and
newly painted a deep-green color, unlike many of its paler neighbors, with the trim of yellow to
contrast the white-lace curtains in most of the windows. It faced the street squarely with an
Italianate portico of Corinthian columns; it was set back from the roadway and approached by a
half-moon drive.
When Mrs. Mullinton alighted from the rented carriage, she fussed with her bonnet before
stepping aside for her guest to join her.