I was in Paris when Parfitt, my man, came to me and said that a lady had called to see me. She said, he added, that it was very important.
I had formed by then the habit of never seeing people without an appointment. People who call to see you about urgent business are nearly invariably people who wish for financial assistance. The people who are in real need of financial assistance, on the other hand, hardly ever come and ask for it.
I asked Parfitt what my visitor’s name was, and he proffered a card. The card said: Catherine Yougoubian – a name I had never heard of and which, frankly, I did not much fancy. I revised my idea that she needed financial assistance and deduced instead that she had something to sell – probably one of those spurious antiques which command a better price when they are brought by hand and forced on the unwilling buyer with the aid of voluble patter.
I said I was sorry that I could not see Madame Yougoubian, but she could write and state her business.
Parfitt inclined his head and withdrew. He is very reliable – an invalid such as I am needs a reliable attendant – and I had not the slightest doubt that the matter was now disposed of. Much to my astonishment, however, Parfitt reappeared. The lady, he said, was very insistent. It was a matter of life and death and concerned an old friend of mine.
