Doctor Fischer of Geneva Or The Bomb Party by Graham Greene Read Free Book Online Page A

certain courage at the end. I doubt if one of you would ever show as much, not even our gallant Divisionnaire. I doubt if one of you has even contemplated ridding the world of his unnecessary presence. So I’ll ask you to toast the ghost of Madame Faverjon.’
    I obeyed like all the others.
    Albert entered carrying a silver tray on which there was a large pot of caviare and little silver dishes of egg and onion and sliced lemons.
    â€˜You will excuse Albert for serving me first,’ Doctor Fischer said.
    â€˜I adore caviare,’ Mrs Montgomery said. ‘I could live on it.’
    â€˜You could afford to live on it if you were prepared to spend your own money.’
    â€˜I’m not such a rich woman as all that.’
    â€˜Why bother to lie to me? If you weren’t as rich as you are you would not be sitting at this table. I invite only the very rich.’
    â€˜What about Mr Jones?’
    â€˜He is here as an observer rather than as a guest, but of course, as he is my son-in-law, he may imagine he has great expectations. Expectations too are a form of wealth. I am sure Mr Kips could arrange him substantial credits, and expectations are not taxable – he wouldn’t need to consult Monsieur Belmont. Albert, the bibs.’
    For the first time I noticed that there were no napkins by our places. Albert was fastening a bib round Mrs Montgomery’s neck. She gave a squeal of pleasure. ‘ Ecrevisses! I love écrevisses .’
    â€˜We haven’t toasted the late lamented Monsieur Groseli,’ the Divisionnaire said, adjusting his bib. ‘I won’t pretend that I ever liked that man.’
    â€˜Hurry up then, while Albert fetches your dinner. To Monsieur Groseli. He only attended two of our dinners before dying of cancer, so I had no time to study his character. If I had known of the cancer I would never have invited him to join us. I expect my guests to entertain me for a much longer time. Ah, here is your dinner, so I can now begin my own.’
    Mrs Montgomery gave a high shriek. ‘Why, this is porridge, cold porridge.’
    â€˜Real Scotch porridge. You should appreciate it, with your Scotch name.’ Doctor Fischer gave himself a helping of caviare and poured himself out a glass of vodka.
    â€˜It will destroy all our appetite,’ Deane said.
    â€˜Don’t be afraid of that. There is nothing to follow.’
    â€˜This is going too far, Doctor Fischer,’ Mrs Montgomery said. ‘Cold porridge. Why, it’s totally inedible.’
    â€˜Don’t eat it then. Don’t eat it, Mrs Montgomery. By the rules you will only lose your little present. To tell you the truth I ordered porridge especially for Jones. I had thought of some partridges, but how could he have managed with one hand?’
    To my astonishment I saw that the Divisionaire and Richard Deane had begun to eat and Mr Kips had at least picked up his spoon.
    â€˜If we could have a little sugar,’ Belmont said, ‘it might perhaps help.’
    â€˜I understand that the Welsh – no, no, I remember, Jones – I mean the Scots – consider it a blasphemy to spoil their porridge with sugar. They even eat it, I am told, with salt. You may certainly have salt. Offer the gentlemen salt, Albert. Mrs Montgomery has decided to go hungry.’
    â€˜Oh no, I won’t ruin your little joke, Doctor Fischer. Give me the salt. It can’t make the porridge any worse than it is.’
    Within a minute or two to my wonder they were all eating in silence and with a grim intensity. Perhaps the porridge clogged their tongues. ‘You don’t attempt yours, Jones?’ Doctor Fischer asked me and he helped himself to a little more caviare.
    â€˜I’m not hungry enough.’
    â€˜Nor rich enough,’ Doctor Fischer said. ‘For several years now I have been studying the greediness of the rich. “To him that hath shall be given” – those cynical