Society

[AmandaAce]

Julia remained silent, her face drawn, her cheeks flaming, as Jean guided her into the booth. The people that watched them pass mistook her solemn face, assuming she was embarassed and possibly holding back tears.
In truth, she was biting the insides of her cheeks in a heroic effort not to laugh. It had taken absolutely all of her control not to peal laughter during Jean's speech. She was grateful for her hand on his arm, without which she might have collapsed to the floor with hilarity.
As they sat down in the booth, which was indeed very private, Jean made a comment about Verd's attitude. "I can just imagine how she is behind doors," he said, and laughed.
"She's not so bad," Julia replied. "She reserves her best fits of temper for distinguished company. You should feel honored."
She could see Verd downstairs, flocking to her seat with Cheekington and Cloris, looking up and around for Julia. Her mouth was compressed into a thin white line. Julia sat back quickly before she could catch Verd's eye.
But as she sat back, someone caught her eye. There was a man in the seventh row, bald, with a large gold monocle on his lapel. He was looking directly at the box in which Julia and Jean sat. As Julia watched him, he placed the monocle in his eye and peered closely up at them. One of his huge, long-fingered hands rested on the armrest of his seat. After a long moment, he turned his attention back to the stage.
When he turned, Julia caught sight of a large silver watch that had come out of his pocket. It hung there on a length of filigreed silver chain. It seemed familiar somehow, and Julia fumbled her opera glasses out of her purse and looked closer. There, etched into the silver case of the bald man's watch, was the same diamond emblem as the key.
What did it mean? Julia wasn't sure, but she was determined to find out. She'd look for the bald man later, in the crowd. Perhaps she could get a better look at his face.
She placed her glasses back in her bag and turned to Jean. Although the whole incident had taken perhaps ten seconds, Jean was looking at her curiously. She blushed against her will and smiled. He really was incredibly handsome. She would have to be very careful with him. He was the kind of man who could cause a young lady to let her guard down.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the dimming of lights. The curtain was rising.

 

[poohlive]

Jean found himself amidst an entire controversy that had started with his own simple little plan. It is just amazing in this day and age how far and fast things travel. They had, now, at their disposal, the entire town watching himself and young miss Julia over here.

He wondered if she would hate the idea of scandal at her own expense. It would be a shame to hurt her, even for his own selfish reasons. She was a wonderous lady, one worthy of kindness and respect. Her cousin, however, was of a different matter.

He would have to keep with is plan, and hoped that once it was over, she could forgive him. And indeed, if things went well, he would marry her, and put all the wrongs to right.

Jean leaned over as the lights turned dark, moving close to her ear, he smelled in her fragrence, loving the feeling of being so close to her.

"Thank you," He whispered, kissing her slightly on the ear. As he pulled back, he could see several spy glasses not on the play beginning, but on their booth.

Now, things were really going to begin.

 

[sipawitz]

70

 

[sipawitz]

71

 

[sipawitz]

83 whores

 

[AmandaAce]

Although the play was very diverting, Julia found she could barely concentrate on it. One moment she was following the myriad adventures of Lady Abigail Summerland, who was shut up in the house with her invalid uncle and lunatic aunt, and the next moment she found her gaze straying to the mysterious man downstairs. Or she would be deeply extricated in the plight of Sir Benjamin Leighton, Abigail's true love, who'd been stranded on a desert island by the evil pirate Cantor Ray, and would find herself intensely aware of Jean, who had kissed her on the ear earlier and was now sitting languidly next to her. She didn't think he was even watching the play.
Every time Julia looked down into the audience, she saw the stage lights reflected in the hundreds of monocles and opera glasses that were pointed her way. It was no wonder she couldn't concentrate on Lady Abigail. Everyone in the theatre was looking at them! Well, no matter. She had wanted to cause a stink, and she definitely had. All there was now was to enjoy the show and wait for doom to descend later.
She settled back in her chair, determined now to simply enjoy her evening out. As she did, she looked over at Jean, who looked intensely bored and very handsome, in the worst kind of spoiled and sullen way. She was starting to forget the objective of her plan, but who could blame her? He was bloody gorgeous.
She would have to get a hold of herself. Smoothing her skirts, she turned her attention back to the play. Sir Benjamin was valiantly battling the evil Cantor Ray on the mast of the ship, the actors balancing as though on a tightrope. Their effort made little difference to the audience, most of whom were craning their necks up towards the boxes, trying to get a glimpse of Jean and Julia.
There was one audience member who was more interested than the rest. The large bald man downstairs was slowly standing up. Julia never saw him; neither did most of the audience. He turned slowly round to face the Covington's box, and, with one huge spidery hand, drew a revolver from his coat pocket. As Sir Benjamin delivered his killing strike to the pirate, there was a loud noise and a billow of smoke. This special effect was designed to help the crew remove the ship set, and served as an end to the first act. It also served to cover up the single shot the bald man made, his deadly eye trained on the box where Jean and Julia sat.
The bullet ripped through the front of the box, between the two, who sat no more than a few inches apart, through the curtain behind then, and into the hall, where it buried itself in a wall.
Several seconds passed before Julia could register what had happened. The audience downstairs was filing out for intermission, and the bald man was as good as gone. No one had noticed a thing.
Shaking, Julia turned to Jean.
"If you'll pardon me, Mister Covington," she said. "I think we've just been shot at."

 

[poohlive]

Jean examined the bullet hole, eyeing it as curiously as one might eye a strange dish of food, or a new guest in their house. He smiled at Julia, and then looked down at the audience below. No one seemed to be pointing a gun at them, or running and screaming, or trying to find an exit. Indeed, no one noticed at all.

"I think it's best if we go," Jean said, taking Julia's arm and moving her as quickly as he could passed the curtains and down the hallways. He passed several other theater goers, all eager to talk to him, and Julia, but he brushed through them were a determined reverence.

He found an usher, and spoke with him, "Tell my driver to meet us out back, as soon as possible, understand?"

The usher nodded, moving off.

Jean smiled at Julia, and then moved to the back of the theatre.

"Nothing like a little spontinaity to really excite an evening, don't you think? Oh, what an awful bore this play was... I can't wait to see it again next week."

He added, as an afterthought, "If I am alive, that is."

He moved through the hallways and corridors, passed the side of the stage where ropes andcounterweights all stood helping to move the scenery around, passed stage hands holding up prop swords and takards of ale. They moved through the dressing room where half naked men and women were dancing around, putting on make-up, changing costumes, or smoking and talking amongst themselves. No one seemed to notice Jean and Julia run through them hurridly...

Leave it to actors to think it is all about THEM!!!!!

Jean sighed, pushing the doors to the back entrance, and seeing his horse and carriage there, waiting.

"I would have loved to stay, but it seems we are not welcome at the moment," he smiled at the driver, before following Julia into the carriage.

"My goodness!!! Shot at. Can you believe it? Me? Being shot at? I have no enemies... except..."

He paused, thinking about Verd. Could she have hired someone on such short notice? No, that would have been impossible. It would have taken days to set up, and he had only been planning this for a few hours.

It wasn't impossible though... highly improbable, but not impossible.

But, he had no other enemies in which to speak of. No one hated him. Well, to be honest, people did hate him, or, rather, disliked him immensely, but no one hated him enough to kill him.

And, that left...

"You. Julia? Would someone want to kill you? Do you know of anyone who hates you? Or, rather, me? One of us. A jealous lover who couldn't stand to see you so happy in my presence? Or, a villanous man after your cousins estate by killing you all? How dreadfully exciting. I must hear all about it. Please, tell me everything."

Jean sat forward, bent on Julia's every word.

 

[AmandaAce]

Julia sat in the carriage, trying to decide what she should tell Jean. She'd come to several realizations in the time it had taken them to flee the theatre, and she now had more than a vague idea what was going on. That was all well and good, except that one of the things she wasn't clear on was whether Jean was involved or not. She was pretty sure he wasn't, but if she told him everything, she was risking her life.
So she sat there quietly for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. When she opened her mouth, the entire story came out.
"As you know," she said quietly, "My father died of a wasting sickness many years ago." From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod acknowledgement. He'd been at the funeral, with his mother and brother.
"When I was very small, my father used to tell me a story. When he was our age and just out of school, my father and two of his friends met, at a club, a man by the name of Horatio Franklin, who claimed to be a pirate. Some of this may sound familiar to you," she added, not daring to look up to catch his reaction.
"This Mister Franklin was said to have in his possession a box of most high value, a box that had brought him such good fortune that he'd been able to quit his life as a pirate and buy his way into genteel society. They spoke with his at length that night, and Horatio Franklin was never seen again.
That box was in my father's possession up until the day he died, when it vanished from the house. Until today, my cousin Verd and Mister Cheekington were the only people who knew the whereabouts of the key to the box and the letter my father left me explaining the situation. I now have the key to the box, and I have no need for an explanation.
My father's two best friends were these: Sir Gideon Byrne, and Lord Hugo Covington. I have seen your father, and the man downstairs was not he. I say to you, Mister Covington, if that was Gideon Byrne downstairs, and my family is not in possession of the box, whose is?"
Julia kept her eyes downcast as she waited for his response. There was someone after them both, and they could trust no one but each other.

 

[poohlive]

Jean puzzled over this for a while, unsure just what she was trying to tell him. Some parts fit, they even made sense, parts he could understand, but others seemed foreign to him, information swimming around, unable to catch any hold inside his brain.

"So, this person who shot at us... who might be an old school friend of your father, or might not, was after the key to a box that holds something very valuable, which no one really knows what it is?"

For some reason, he felt as if he should call upon Sherlock Holmes. This was far beyond a mystery, it was a questionable thriller mystery that consumed itself by enigma and intrigue. None of which Jean understood, but all of which he found fascinating.

"Because of a key? How very interesting. Is that all the information you have? Where did you find out all of this? My father hardly speaks of himself at all. He bored us with stories of his old hunting expiditions in Africa and Peru, but this is something entirely new. I feel left out, being part of the drama, and yet not. What a shame."

Jean only pouted for a moment or so, before he slipped his arm around Julia, hugging her close to him.

"Don't worry. We will solve this, at least the part about someone trying to kill you. Between us, I know we have many connections, and this won't be too hard to investigate, especially if we already have the gentleman's name. Byron, you say? I would only wonder... how did he know we would be at the theatre? I only asked you earlier in the day. Surely people would have known, but only a few hours in advance."

And wasn't it strange that Verd was there, along with her own friends. Something didn't quite sit well with Jean on that one.

"Driver stop for a moment," The driver did as he was told.

"Maybe you are not safe at home... Perhaps we should go somewhere. Out in the country, or maybe a hotel somewhere. This person could be waiting for you back at the mansion..."

 

[AmandaAce]

Over the course of the last few minutes, Julia had become very nervous. She'd told Jean everything she knew, perhaps prematurely, and now she was at his complete mercy. Granted, he'd seemed truly surprised by her story, but that could've been an act. She'd studied his face surreptitiously all evening, and what had she discovered but that he was more clever than he appeared? This had gone all wrong, and she'd given up her slight advantage.
He'd offered to take her away from Stalham House, yet Stalham House might be the only place she would be safe. After all, Byrne had been there, hadn't he? She'd seen him at the window, the night she saw Jean. He'd know the box wasn't there. And she could go to Verd. As much as they hated each other, she and Verd were family. Verd would help her.
Julia was, for the first time in her life, experiencing paranoia. When she stopped to think about it, she couldn't trust anyone. Her few acquaintances, Verd, Cheekington, Gideon Byrne -- every last one of them stood to gain if she died. Every one she knew, except Jean Covington. Whatever secret stood in that box, whatever horrible unspoken thing had happened between their fathers those many years ago, none of those things could possibly affect him in the least. Therefore, he was the only person she could trust.
"Dalingwood," she said, referring to the Stalham's country manor, some forty miles from the city. They hadn't been there in years, leaving the upkeep to an elderly couple who lived on the estate. "No one will find us there." She was sure they wouldn't. She was also sure that if she wasn't back at Stalham House by the time Verd returned tomorrow, all hell would break loose. But what convinced her was that her father's study at Dalingwood hadn't been so much as touched since he died. If there were any more clues to be found, they would find them there.

 

[poohlive]

Jean nodded, moving up front with the driver and informing him of the new destination. The driver, a good upstanding man, glared at Jean for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then nodded in a gruff.

Jean sat down next to Julia in the carriage.

"It is settled, we will go out the manor. I think it is best. Safer, for both of us. Whoever it is, by now they must think I am a part of this whole thing. What an exciting night. I though, at the most, I would have you over for some coffee and late night gossip. This is..."

Jean stopped, covering his mouth as he began to laugh.

"Oh my goodness. Can you just believe what people will think? We leave the theatre early, in a huge hurry, out the back, so hardly anyone can see us. And yet, by the final curtain everyone will know. And, we will not show up at our homes tonight. Oh. They will think we have run off together, doing the most immoral and taboo acts imaginable. Such gossip... such wonderful gossip."

Jean caught himself, giving a smile, before he cleared his throat.

"I mean, the way some people think. It's horribly time consuming and despicable. Our lives are threatened, and they can only think of idle gossip."

Although, he had almost said, "our lives are threatened, and I can only think of idle gossip," but he had caught himself, and was happy not to explain himself at this point. Beside, it felt good to be doing something, even if he wasn't really. Julia didn't need his help, but wanted his company, and his safety.

He was willing to give that to her.

"You did look beautiful tonight. Did you see everyone stare at you? I could barely keep my own eyes off of you."

 

[AmandaAce]

Julia was not in the least put off by the thought of everyone's reaction. Verd had kept her sheltered from society for so long that the gossip of several hundred well-dressed idiots meant nothing to her. What would happen at Stalham House when she was gone? At best, Verd would be out of her mind with worry, the police would be called, and they would be found in disgrace at Dalingwood with only a fairy story to explain themselves. At worst, Verd and Cheekington could try to take the estate from her. Last night, she would've dismissed this without another thought, but now she was beginning to realize just how much was at stake. That she could lose her home, her estate, was unthinkable.
"You did look beautiful tonight. Did you see everyone stare at you? I could barely keep my own eyes off of you, "Jean said, breaking her macabre train of thought.
"Thank you, Mister Covington," she replied demurely. That was all she could trust herself to say. She was blushing again, much to her chagrin.
The trip to Dalingwood was much as she remembered it, and it would probably take all night. She was looking out the window, into the dark, almost dozing, when a thought came to her. The box had vanished in the days of mourning following her father's untimely death. What if someone had been instructed to move the box to Dalingwood?
Gideon Byrne had been to Dalingwood, had spent several Christmases there when Julia was very young. What if he was there now? What if their quick escape had been in vain, and he was waiting there right now? What rough justice it would be for Byrne to murder the offspring of the men who'd betrayed him! Were they playing right into his hands?
Julia would have to hope not. She looked up, right into Jean's beautiful, sullen visage.
"I am very glad you're here with me, Mister Covington," she said quietly.
And she was glad. She'd be even gladder if she knew for sure that he wasn't trying to kill her, too.

 

[poohlive]

Jean had a swelling of pride at her last remark. Almost something of a hero, if he did say so himself. He had no real markings of a hero, not that he could distinguish, and yet she looked at him like one. He was her protector, someone that she could count on, if only for this weekend.

"We'll beat this thing yet, don't you worry."

She seemed lost in her own little world though. So, Jean thought if according that he get lost in his. He spent the rest of the night bobbing between half sleep and half dreams of insessant gossip that continued to circle around him, hounding him like some unvenged ghost. It wasn't until hours later when the coach stopped that Jean snapped out of it.

"We are here," the driver said, opening the door. Jean got out, helping Julia down.

"Good sir, thank you. You may go."

The driver gave him another hard stare. Jean sighed, taking out money, twice as much, with a handsome bonus.

"And, it would help us if no one knew where we are, ok?"

The driver didn't like leaving this woman alone with an obvious lunatic, but the money helped ease his pain. He drove the carriage down the road, only one look back.

The manor, in the early twilight of the morning, had a certain spooky air to it. He paused, unsure if this was the safe house that Julia was speaking too. His imagination ran wild with what could be inside, what could be lurking in the shadows.


Oh, this was just ridiculous. Julia's paranoia was wearing off on him. No one would be waiting her, no one knew they were here... at least not yet. They had to go inside. He was hungry, and cold, and wanted to get out of these clothes. They were wonderful for a few hours of theatre, but an entire night of driving was just out of place for him.

"Come on," He said, half assuring Julia, and half assuring himself. He came up next to her, put his arm around her, and walked toward the foreboding entrance.

 

[AmandaAce]

Dalingwood was nothing like Julia remembered it. When she was young, it had been a refuge, a retreat from the hot, cramped city and the demands of Stalham House. Now it looked --- sinister. The windows glared at them as thought they'd been expecting them.
Nonetheless, it was safe, and warm, and full of food. The caretakers, Mrs. & Mrs. Ruggle, had been instructed many years ago to always keep Dalingwood ready for visitors, no matter what the cost. It had always been so, so Julia didn't find it strange, but strange it was. Most other country manors were completely shut up when they weren't occupied, but Daniel Stalham, looking to the future, had made Dalingwood a refuge for himself and his daughter.
They trudged up the walk, going through the desolate little park and up the crumbling stone steps. Julia glanced at Jean, shrugged, then stepped up and rang the massive bell.
"I don't have a key," she explained.
She didn't need a key. Less than a minute after she'd rung the bell, the door was flung open. A middle-aged couple stood there in their nightdress, pale and frightened. The man, who was tall, thin, and balding on top, extended the muzzle of a rifle directly into Jean Covington's face.
"Explain y'self!" he barked, shaking the gun. His wife, a small, round woman whose curly red hair was tumbling out of her cap, shrieked.
"Shoot 'im, 'enry!" she shouted, flapping the huge sleeves of her night dress.
"Wait!" Julia cried, stepping up to the door. "Mr. & Mrs. Ruggle, it's me. Julia."
The Ruggles yowled like two amorous cats. Mr. Ruggle lowered his gun and bowed deeply to her, while Mrs. Ruggle simply grabbed her and hugged her tightly, disordering her hair.
"Miss Julia!" Mrs. Ruggle gasped. "As I live and breathe! And so like your mother! And your father," she added quickly.
"But come in, Miss Julia," Mr. Ruggle broke in. "You must be chilled nearly to death. Come on, Molly. Let's get Miss Julia, and, er--" Mr. Ruggle trailed off sheepishly.
"Oh!" Julia exclaimed. "Forgive me for not introducing my companion. Henry and Molly Ruggle, may I present Mister Jean Covington?" Here she gave a little curtsy. When she looked round, the barrel of the gun had found its way back into Jean's face.
"Covington?" Henry sneered. "I've half a mind to shoot you on the spot! What are you doing with our Miss Julia? Explain yourself, sir!"

 

[poohlive]

Jean had suddenly found himself in a fit of danger. How many times could one person be shot at in a single night and still retain his dignity? At some point, it was going to become ridculous... except, with a shotgun pointed at him, Jean found nothing ridiculous about the situation, not yet.

"Sir, I was asked to come, by Julia here. We were courting, as it were, when we were shot at. Believe me when I say I am in the same position she is in..."

Well, not exactly. She did not have a gun pointed at her at this exact same moment.

"Once a Covington, always a Covington."

"Excuse me! What is this all about? I would rather have you shoot me than to hear exults ran about in my family. We are as proper and dignified as any other family in all of London. I have no reason to see..."

"No, you wouldn't," the old man had spunk inside him. A man with spunk was fun to mock, yet with the gun in his hand, it didn't seem like a good idea at the time.

"What is this all about?" He said, in exasperated confusion.

The old man thought for a minute, deciding something up in his own mind, before he invited them both in.

"You know where the study is, I suppose you'll find your answers there. If he gives you any trouble, Julia, you just call me, I'll be waiting."

He went upstairs. The wife, Molly, he thought her name was, gave him a hard beady stare, asking him if he'd like something to eat. Jean had been starving, and gladly accepted her cold invitation.

He paused a moment, looking at the cold and desolate house.

"I suppose it's friendlier here in summer," He said, although not too convincingly.

 

[AmandaAce]

"I suppose it's friendlier here in summer," Jean remarked gloomily as they follwed Mrs. Ruggle into the front hallway.
"Anything's friendlier than London in the summer," Julia said.
"Now, Julia, dear," Mrs. Ruggle interjected. "Take your young man into the study. I'll be in directly with some tea. Then I s'pose I'll have to be getting your bedrooms ready. I'll send 'enry in to build up the fire." She pushed them down the front hall and through the study door, then took off towards the kitchen.
Her father's study remained unchanged. Walking into it, Julia felt like a child again. The huge mahogany desk still took up the majority of the room. The bookshelves that lined the walls still seemed ready to collapse into the room, spilling their haphazardly piled tomes all over. Even her father's armchair looked the same, the creased, worn leather of its upholstery still seeming to hold the smell of her father's cigars.
Her reverie was broken by Henry Ruggle's gruff entrance. Her stomped into the study with a cord of wood, and began hostilely building a huge fire. Every few seconds he would glance over at Jean and shake his head or mutter something under his breath. After a few moments, a fire was roaring in the large fireplace behind the desk.
"If you need anything else, Miss Julia, just ring," he said as he left the study. "And you, Covington. I'll be keeping my eye on you." With a sneer, Henry stomped out of the room, presumably to join his wife in the kitchen.
"You seem to have made quite a favorable impression," Julia said, smirking at the scowl on Jean's face.
Even though she was safe at Dalingwood, Julia found herself extremely grateful for Jean's presence. In fact, she was halfway to being madly in love with him, though her practical nature was strongly against it.
Gesturing toward her father's desk and the bookshelves crammed with ledger books and papers, Julia looked at Jean.
"Take your coat off and get comfortable," she said. "We've got a lot to look through." With that, she sat down in her father's chair and began rapidly sorting through papers, glad to be safe.
If only she had known that they were not safe at Dalingwood. Not safe at all.

 

[poohlive]

Jean sat down near the fire, glad for the warmth. If not for actual heat, but something nice and comforting within this house. It seemed as if his presence was far less than welcoming. Jean, of course, understood this in regular society... he was a rather abraisive and aloof young man, which cause for several fun incidents.

He began leafing through journals of Julia's father. Most of them particularly boring and uninsightful. They reminded him of watching grass grow. Dinner, meeting with friends, sleep, breakfast, work, lunch, meeting with friends, dinner...
God, had this man no life?

Several meetins did spur his interest though. He saw that Mr. Stalham and his father regularly had meetings inside the city. What was odd was how they never really met at the same place, or the same time. It would always be somewhere new and...

"unable to be traced..." Jean finished explaining it to Julia. Meeting in secret? Oh, there was something afoot. The journals gave no information about the meetings, or what was said. It was, in and of itself, hard to trace.

He let the journals go for a while, they wouldn't help much. He moved over to the stack of papers near Miss Julia, his hands moving over her slim shoulders, interested in what she was looking at.

"Is it good?"

 

[AmandaAce]

Julia was lost in the vastness of her father's study. All of a sudden, the papers, the chair, the fire, overwhelmed her. She was no detective. She felt a very strong urge to put her head on the desk and forget all this was happening.
Jean came over to her and looked over her shoulder. As he did so, he placed a hand on her shoulder. The unexpected contact made Julia blush (again, and it was really getting ridiculous). Jean bent over her, his face close to hers, his hand trailing over the back of her neck. Julia was completely and uncharacteristically flustered. She was falling in love with him, if only she'd admit it to herself.
"These are the wrong papers," she said, and jumped up. She walked over to the bookcases and began pulling down old, dusty ledgers.
"We have to look at the ones that are dated before we were born," she explained, and tossed a ledger at him. "See what you can find."
She'd have to keep herself busy, she decided, because if he touched her again, she just might swoon.
She walked briskly back over to the desk and sat down, gesturing for Jean to sit in a nearby armchair.
"Mrs. Ruggle will be in presently with our tea," she said pointedly. "Might as well make yourself comfortable."
She kept her eyes on the book in front of her, not daring to meet his amused gaze.

 

[poohlive]

Jean had paused for a moment, sitting beside her, looking at her, trying to figure out just what was wrong. He could understand she has had a long night, and being killed, but she was acting odd, even more so than usual.

He wondered if he should say something... but decided against it. She didn't need anything more on her plate at the moment. She was looking for her murderer, and possibly even more.

Jean smiled graciously, leaning over and gently squeezing her hand, "It'll be all right, we'll find something."

The ledgers were different from before. They held less detail, but more influence. He could feel himself getting lost inside them. What fun. Scandal, and even moreso. He was intrigued, this could have come from his own ledgers, had he the courage to put them down on paper.

"... ahhh, wait. Here," He begins to read, "I have hidden it. Even from Covington. I can't trust him anymore, I can't trust any of them. It is safe, for now. I have kept it, but they will be after me. They thought I had the money... I could never come up with that amount. 3 million, in a month? Who has such money?"

Jean looked up, his brow furrowed.