Bones in London - Page 77/130

There were times when Mr. Cresta Morris was called by that name; there

were other moments when he was "Mr. Staleyborn." His wife, a placid

and trusting woman, responded to either name, having implicit faith in

the many explanations which her husband offered to her, the favourite

amongst them being that business men were seldom known by the names

they were born with.

Thus the eminent firm of drapers Messrs. Lavender & Rosemary were--or

was--in private life one Isadore Ruhl, and everybody knew that the

maker of Morgan's Superfatted Soap--"the soap with foam"--was a certain

member of the House of Lords whose name was not Morgan.

Mrs. Staleyborn, or Morris, had a daughter who ran away from home and

became the secretary to Augustus Tibbetts, Managing Director of Schemes

Limited, and there were odd moments of the day when Mrs. Staleyborn

felt vaguely uneasy about her child's future. She had often, indeed,

shed tears between five o'clock in the afternoon and seven o'clock in

the evening, which as everybody knows, is the most depressing time of

the day.

She was, however, one of those persons who are immensely comforted by

the repetition of ancient saws which become almost original every time

they are applied, and one of these sayings was "Everything is for the

best." She believed in miracles, and had reason, for she received her

weekly allowance from her erratic husband with monotonous regularity

every Saturday morning.

This is a mere digression to point the fact that Mr. Morris was known

by many names. He was called "Cress," and "Ike," and "Tubby," and

"Staley," according to the company in which he found himself.

One evening in June he found himself in the society of friends who

called him by names which, if they were not strictly original, were

certainly picturesque. One of these companions was a Mr. Webber, who

had worked more swindles with Morris than had any other partner, and

the third, and most talkative, was a gentleman named Seepidge, of

Seepidge & Soomes, printers to the trade.

Mr. Seepidge was a man of forty-five, with a well-used face. It was

one of those faces which look different from any other angle than that

from which it is originally seen. It may be said, too, that his

colouring was various. As he addressed Mr. Morris, it varied between

purple and blue. Mrs. Morris was in the habit of addressing her

husband by endearing titles. Mr. Seepidge was not addressing Mr.

Morris in a way which, by any stretch of imagination, could be

described as endearing.

"Wait a bit, Lew," pleaded Mr. Morris. "Don't let's quarrel.

Accidents will occur in the best of regulated families."

"Which you're not," said the explosive Mr. Seepidge, violently. "I

gave you two hundred to back Morning Glory in the three o'clock race.

You go down to Newbury with my money, and you come back and tell me,

after the horse has won, that you couldn't get a bookmaker to take the

bet!"