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Pragmatic
Python
Programming
Learning Python the Smart Way
—
Gabor Guta
Pragmatic Python
Programming
Learning Python the Smart Way
Gabor Guta
Pragmatic Python Programming: Learning Python the Smart Way
Gabor Guta
Budapest, Hungary
Acknowledgments������������������������������������������������������������������������������xv
Introduction��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������xvii
v
Table of Contents
vi
Table of Contents
Inheritance����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������61
Nested Classes���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������64
Special Methods�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������65
Classes in Practice����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������68
Advanced Details������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������70
Class Variables, Class Methods, and Static Methods������������������������������������70
Abstract Base Classes�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������72
Immutable Objects and Data Classes������������������������������������������������������������73
Methods of Identifying Classes���������������������������������������������������������������������76
Class Diagrams����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������77
Key Takeaways����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������78
vii
Table of Contents
viii
Table of Contents
Bibliography�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������189
Index�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������193
ix
About the Author
Gabor Guta studied and carried out research
at the Research Institute for Symbolic
Computation, Johannes Kepler University,
Linz, to gain an understanding of the formal
meaning of programming languages. He
worked on complex technology transfer,
cheminformatics, and bioinformatics projects
where both strong theoretical background
and practical software development skills were crucial. Currently, he is
developing distributed software for an open data project. Besides his
software development work, he has been continuously training people
both in academic and industrial settings. He has been actively teaching
Python since 2017.
xi
About the Technical Reviewer
Joshua Willman began using Python in 2015
when he needed to build neural networks
using machine learning libraries for image
classification. While building large image
datasets for his research, he needed to build
a program that would simplify the workload
and labeling process, which introduced him
to PyQt. Since then, he has tried to dive into
everything that is Python.
He currently works as a Python developer, building projects to help
others learn more about coding in Python for game development, AI, and
machine learning. Recently, he set up the site redhuli.io to explore his and
others’ interests in utilizing programming for creativity.
He is the author of Modern PyQt: Create GUI Applications for Project
Management, Computer Vision, and Data Analysis and Beginning PyQt:
A Hands-on Approach to GUI Programming, both published by Apress.
xiii
Acknowledgments
I am thankful to István Juhász, my former diploma supervisor; without his
encouragement and enthusiastic support, this book could not have come
into existence. I am grateful to my friend László Szathmáry, who helped
me as an experienced Python developer and trainer with his insightful
feedback.
xv
Introduction
Communication gaps can build up in IT workplaces between developers
and other roles not requiring programming skills. This gap frequently
hurts the project’s progress and makes cooperation between participants
difficult. My intention is to bridge this gap with this book by explaining the
common mental models with which humans think. I will also demonstrate
the way these models are applied during the programming process.
The book is based on more than two decades of training and software
development experience. Python is not only a popular and modern
programming language, but it is also an easy-to-learn and efficient tool to
reach your goals.
I will not provide too many hands-on exercises and technical details
(how an operating system is built, the way a networking protocol works,
etc.). Regrettably, I cannot offer a quick option to acquire these skills, as
the only way to achieve these skills is with extensive amounts of practice
and troubleshooting. This book will give you a strong basis for starting that
practice.
xvii
Introduction
Figures use the UML notation, and a short description of their meaning
is shown at the end of Chapters 1, 3, 4, and 5. In the source code examples,
I deviate sometimes from the Python coding standard due to the page
layout constraints. These appear mostly with short or shortened names
and 40- to 50-character lines. Program code examples are conceptually
independent units, but they assume former examples of the book have
been run, since they may refer to definitions in them. The examples are
based on the most up-to-date Python 3.10.2 version available when writing
the book. Most of the examples can be run in versions 3.8.x and 3.9.x,
which are the most widespread at this time. Results of the examples are
intentionally not published in the book. The source code in the book is
available for download and you can experiment with it.
xviii
Introduction
Source Code
All source code used in this book is available for you to download from
https://github.com/Apress/pragmatic-python-programming.
Installing an Environment
The installation steps for the most widespread operating systems
(Windows 10, macOS, Ubuntu Linux 22.04 LTS) are described here so you
can run the examples in this book. For another operating system, you can
find assistance on the Internet.
Installation on Windows 10
Follow these steps to install and run Python on Windows 10:
xix
Introduction
xx
Introduction
Installation on macOS
Follow these steps to install and run Python on macOS:
xxi
Introduction
xxii
Introduction
xxiii
CHAPTER 1
Expression: How to
Compute
“Expressions are formed from operators and operands.”
500*2 + 200
2
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
500:int 2:int
((500*2) + 200)
3
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
4
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
The task solved by the example is the following: if the amount of the
order is greater than 1000, a string containing the discount rate would be
created with the values 5% or none. Figure 1-2 shows the expression trees
formed upon evaluation of the expression.
5
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
if-else:operator if-else:operator
500:int 2:int
1200:int 1000:int
0.05 == 5e-2
(0+1j)**2 == -1
During the design of the Python language, it was a vital design decision
that it should contain a small number of built-in types, and at first sight,
the behavior of those types is the same as that of the other, not built-in
types. Only five data types are examined more thoroughly here; the rest
will be discussed in Chapters 5 and 6.
7
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
Variable Names
Now that we have seen how to carry out computation in specific cases,
let’s look at how a computation can be generalized. For this case, objects
are assigned to variable names. Variable names may be thought of most
simply as labels. Variable names usually begin with a letter and continue
with letters or digits. The expression in Listing 1-5 could be rewritten by
first assigning the numbers to variable names, as shown in Listing 1-8.
The advantage of this approach is that in case we were to compute the
expression for other numbers, we simply change only the assignment
statements in lines 1–3 and would not have to modify the expressions.
PRICE = 500
QUANTITY = 2
LIMIT = 1000
total_amount = PRICE * QUANTITY
d_available = total_amount >= LIMIT
discount = '5%' if d_available else 'none'
To express the intent that the variable names to which the value once
assigned will not require change, the variable names are capitalized. This
notation is not more than a convention, and the Python language does not
prevent them from being changed.
The resulting expression is thus much easier to understand.
Importantly, not the formula itself is assigned to the variable name, but
an object created upon computation of the expression instead. It is always
necessary to assign an object to the variable name before it is used (it
must appear on the left side of the equation before it can appear on the
right side).
8
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
a+b a + b Identical.
a=2 a = 2 Identical.
ab a b Adding a space between alphabetic characters turns
the single name into two separate names, which are
in most cases syntactically incorrect (an important
exception is when one of the names is a keyword).
12 1 2 Adding a space between numeric characters turns
a single literal into two separate literals, which are
in most cases syntactically incorrect.
(continued)
9
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
S
tatements
Listing 1-8 showed a program consisting of multiple lines. Each line is one
statement, more precisely an assignment statement. Programs consist of
statements that are executed one after the other, thereby exerting some effect
on their environment. The default in Python is that one line is one statement.
The recommended maximal line length is 79 characters. Listing 1-9 shows
how a long statement can be stretched to multiple lines (lines 3 to 7) or
multiple statements can be condensed into a single line (line 7). When a line
is too short for a statement, part of the statement can be brought over to the
following line after an end-of-line backslash (\). Should we want to compact
multiple statements in a line, the statements would have to be separated by a
semicolon (;). Both notations should generally be avoided.
10
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
PRICE = 500
QUANTITY = 2
PRICE = \
500
QUANTITY = \
2
PRICE = 500; QUANTITY = 2
11
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
12
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
13
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
14
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
PRICE1 = 10
PRICE2 = 2500
Difference of f’{PRICE1} and {PRICE2} is {PRICE2-PRICE1}'
15
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
f'{PRICE1:.2f}, {PRICE2:05d}'
Advanced Details
This section describes technical details in reference manual style and
advanced concepts that may need more technical background.
Names
You saw that names (also called identifiers) can be given to objects. The
following characters can be present in a name: beginning with a letter or
an underscore and continuing with a letter-like character, underscore,
or digit. Letter-like means that other categories are added to characters
considered letters in the Unicode standard, namely, the “nonspacing
mark,” the “spacing combining mark,” and the “connector punctuation”
categories. Within names Python discriminates lowercase and uppercase
letters, but certain character combinations can be regarded the same
according to the NFKC standard. It is recommended to use only letters of
the English alphabet in names.
16
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
Literals
Literals represent objects corresponding to their meanings. Rules applied
to the bool, complex, float, int, and str type values are as follows:
17
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
18
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
19
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
\ and “new line” The backslash and the new line will be ignored.
\\ The backslash itself (\).
\a ASCII bell character (BEL).
\b ASCII backspace (BS).
\f ASCII form feed (FF).
\n ASCII linefeed (LF).
\r ASCII carriage return (CR).
\t ASCII horizontal tabulation (TAB).
\v ASCII vertical tabulation (VT).
\ooo Character code with a value of ooo in an octal number system.
\xhh Character code with a value of hh in a hexadecimal number system.
20
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
The dot can appear within a decimal fraction. Three consecutive dots
may be present one after the other, which is called an ellipsis literal. This is
not used in core Python, only in some extensions (e.g., NumPy).
Table 1-5 shows that the precedence of the operators is shown
downward increasing. Stronger operations will be performed first.
If strengths were equal, applying the operations takes place from left
to right. An exception is exponentiation with a reverse direction of
application.
21
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
x := y Assignment expression
x if y else z Conditional expression
x or y Logical or
x and y Logical and
not x Logical negation
x in y, x not in y, Membership tests,
x is y, x is not y, identity tests,
x < y, x <= y, x > y, and comparisons
x >= y, x != y, x == y
x | y Bitwise or
x ^ y Bitwise exclusive or
x & y Bitwise and
x << y, x >> y Bitwise shift
x + y, x - y Addition, subtraction
x / y, x // y, x % y Division, integer division,
remainder
+x, -x, ~x Positive, negative, bitwise negation
x**y Raising to the power
(x) Expression in parentheses
22
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
Python Standards
The Python language is defined in The Python Language Reference. The
content of the book covers basically this document. In addition, several
language-related standards will be described in the Python Enhancement
Proposals; they are usually referenced as PEP plus a number. An often
mentioned PEP document is PEP 8, which contains a recommendation for
formatting the Python source code.
Key Takeaways
• In the chapter, you learned about the concept of an
expression, which is one of the most important building
blocks of programming languages. An expression
describes operations between objects. Usually, the goal
of their usage is to construct a new object needed for
the next step of processing (e.g., calculating the sum of
the price of products).
23
Chapter 1 Expression: How to Compute
24
CHAPTER 2
The Function:
Programs as a Series
of Statements
“It is usual in mathematics—outside of mathematical logic—to use the
word function imprecisely and to apply it to forms such as y2 + x. Because
we shall later compute with expressions for functions, we need a distinction
between functions and forms and a notation for expressing this distinction.
This distinction and a notation for describing it, from which we deviate
trivially is given by Church.”
C
alling a Function
Let’s start by looking at how to use the built-in functions that already exist
in Python. Using a function usually means executing a function call. The
result of the function is referred to as the returned value. The computer
executes the statements assigned to the function name with the specified
objects, and the result object will be obtained. This is expressed by
placing a pair of parentheses after the function name, in which parameter
objects are enumerated optionally. The enumerated objects are called the
arguments of the functions. Calling the absolute value function visible in
Listing 2-1 will result in a number object with a value of 1. This is exactly
what you would expect from the |-1| expression.
abs(-1)
round(3499 * 1.1)
26
Discovering Diverse Content Through
Random Scribd Documents
6
The Gentle Art of Blackmail
It was exactly five minutes to four when Virginia Revel, rendered
punctual by a healthy curiosity, returned to the house in Pont Street.
She opened the door with her latchkey, and stepped into the hall to
be immediately confronted by the impassive Chilvers.
“I beg pardon, ma’am, but a—a person has called to see you——”
For the moment, Virginia did not pay attention to the subtle
phraseology whereby Chilvers cloaked his meaning.
“Mr. Lomax? Where is he? In the drawing-room?”
“Oh, no, ma’am, not Mr. Lomax.” Chilvers’ tone was faintly
reproachful. “A person—I was reluctant to let him in, but he said his
business was most important—connected with the late Captain, I
understood him to say. Thinking therefore that you might wish to
see him, I put him—er—in the study.”
Virginia stood thinking for a minute. She had been a widow now for
some years, and the fact that she rarely spoke of her husband was
taken by some to indicate that below her careless demeanour was a
still aching wound. By others it was taken to mean the exact
opposite, that Virginia had never really cared for Tim Revel, and that
she found it insincere to profess a grief she did not feel.
“I should have mentioned, ma’am,” continued Chilvers, “that the
man appears to be some kind of foreigner.”
Virginia’s interest heightened a little. Her husband had been in the
Diplomatic Service, and they had been together in Herzoslovakia just
before the sensational murder of the King and Queen. This man
might probably be a Herzoslovakian, some old servant who had
fallen on evil days.
“You did quite right, Chilvers,” she said with a quick, approving nod.
“Where did you say you had put him? In the study?”
She crossed the hall with her light buoyant step, and opened the
door of the small room that flanked the dining-room.
The visitor was sitting in a chair by the fireplace. He rose on her
entrance and stood looking at her. Virginia had an excellent memory
for faces, and she was at once quite sure that she had never seen
the man before. He was tall and dark, supple in figure, and quite
unmistakably a foreigner; but she did not think he was of Slavonic
origin. She put him down as Italian or possibly Spanish.
“You wished to see me?” she asked. “I am Mrs. Revel.”
The man did not answer for a minute or two. He was looking her
slowly over, as though appraising her narrowly. There was a veiled
insolence in his manner which she was quick to feel.
“Will you please state your business?” she said, with a touch of
impatience.
“You are Mrs. Revel? Mrs. Timothy Revel?”
“Yes. I told you so just now.”
“Quite so. It is a good thing that you consented to see me, Mrs.
Revel. Otherwise, as I told your butler, I should have been compelled
to do business with your husband.”
Virginia looked at him in astonishment, but some impulse quelled the
retort that sprang to her lips. She contented herself by remarking
dryly:
“You might have found some difficulty in doing that.”
“I think not. I am very persistent. But I will come to the point.
Perhaps you recognize this?”
He flourished something in his hand. Virginia looked at it without
much interest.
“Can you tell me what it is, madame?”
“It appears to be a letter,” replied Virginia, who was by now
convinced that she had to do with a man who was mentally
unhinged.
“And perhaps you note to whom it is addressed,” said the man
significantly, holding it out to her.
“I can read,” Virginia informed him pleasantly. “It is addressed to a
Captain O’Neill at Rue de Quenelles No. 15, Paris.”
The man seemed searching her face hungrily for something he did
not find.
“Will you read it, please?”
Virginia took the envelope from him, drew out the enclosure and
glanced at it; but almost immediately she stiffened and held it out to
him again.
“This is a private letter—certainly not meant for my eyes.”
The man laughed sardonically.
“I congratulate you, Mrs. Revel, on your admirable acting. You play
your part to perfection. Nevertheless, I think that you will hardly be
able to deny the signature!”
“The signature?”
Virginia turned the letter over—and was struck dumb with
astonishment. The signature, written in a delicate slanting hand, was
Virginia Revel. Checking the exclamation of astonishment that rose
to her lips, she turned again to the beginning of the letter and
deliberately read the whole thing through. Then she stood a minute
lost in thought. The nature of the letter made it clear enough what
was in prospect.
“Well, madame?” said the man. “That is your name, is it not?”
“Oh, yes,” said Virginia. “It’s my name.” “But not my handwriting,”
she might have added.
Instead she turned a dazzling smile upon her visitor.
“Supposing,” she said sweetly, “we sit down and talk it over?”
He was puzzled. Not so had he expected her to behave. His instinct
told him that she was not afraid of him.
“First of all, I should like to know how you found me out?”
“That was easy.”
He took from his pocket a page torn from an illustrated paper, and
handed it to her. Anthony Cade would have recognized it.
She gave it back to him with a thoughtful little frown.
“I see,” she said. “It was very easy.”
“Of course you understand, Mrs. Revel, that that is not the only
letter. There are others.”
“Dear me,” said Virginia, “I seem to have been frightfully indiscreet.”
Again she could see that her light tone puzzled him. She was by now
thoroughly enjoying herself.
“At any rate,” she said, smiling sweetly at him, “it’s very kind of you
to call and give them back to me.”
There was a pause as he cleared his throat.
“I am a poor man, Mrs. Revel,” he said at last, with a good deal of
significance in his manner.
“As such you will doubtless find it easier to enter the Kingdom of
Heaven, or so I have always heard.”
“I cannot afford to let you have these letters for nothing.”
“I think you are under a misapprehension. Those letters are the
property of the person who wrote them.”
“That may be the law, madame, but in this country you have a
saying ‘Possession is nine points of the law.’ And, in any case, are
you prepared to invoke the aid of the law?”
“The law is a severe one for blackmailers,” Virginia reminded him.
“Come, Mrs. Revel, I am not quite a fool. I have read these letters—
the letters of a woman to her lover, one and all breathing dread of
discovery by her husband. Do you want me to take them to your
husband?”
“You have overlooked one possibility. Those letters were written
some years ago. Supposing that since then—I have become a
widow.”
He shook his head with confidence.
“In that case—if you had nothing to fear—you would not be sitting
here making terms with me.”
Virginia smiled.
“What is your price?” she asked in a business-like manner.
“For one thousand pounds I will hand the whole packet over to you.
It is very little that I am asking there; but, you see, I do not like the
business.”
“I shouldn’t dream of paying you a thousand pounds,” said Virginia
with decision.
“Madame, I never bargain. A thousand pounds, and I will place the
letters in your hands.”
Virginia reflected.
“You must give me a little time to think it over. It will not be easy for
me to get such a sum together.”
“A few pounds on account perhaps—say fifty—and I will call again.”
Virginia looked up at the clock. It was five minutes past four, and she
fancied that she had heard the bell.
“Very well,” she said hurriedly. “Come back to-morrow, but later than
this. About six.”
She crossed over to a desk that stood against the wall, unlocked one
of the drawers, and took out an untidy handful of notes.
“There is about forty pounds here. That will have to do for you.”
He snatched at it eagerly.
“And now go at once, please,” said Virginia.
He left the room obediently enough. Through the open door, Virginia
caught a glimpse of George Lomax in the hall, just being ushered
upstairs by Chilvers. As the front door closed, Virginia called to him.
“Come in here, George. Chilvers, bring us tea in here, will you
please?”
She flung open both windows, and George Lomax came into the
room to find her standing erect with dancing eyes and wind-blown
hair.
“I’ll shut them in a minute, George, but I felt the room ought to be
aired. Did you fall over the blackmailer in the hall?”
“The what?”
“Blackmailer, George. B.L.A.C.K.M.A.I.L.E.R? Blackmailer. One who
blackmails.”
“My dear Virginia, you can’t be serious!”
“Oh, but I am, George.”
“But who did he come here to blackmail?”
“Me, George.”
“But, my dear Virginia, what have you been doing?”
“Well, just for once, as it happens, I hadn’t been doing anything.
The good gentleman mistook me for someone else.”
“You rang up the police, I suppose?”
“No, I didn’t. I suppose you think I ought to have done so.”
“Well——” George considered weightily. “No, no, perhaps not—
perhaps you acted wisely. You might be mixed up in some
unpleasant publicity in connection with the case. You might even
have had to give evidence——”
“I should have liked that,” said Virginia. “I would love to be
summoned, and I should like to see if judges really do make all the
rotten jokes you read about. It would be most exciting. I was at Vine
Street the other day to see about a diamond brooch I had lost, and
there was the most perfectly lovely inspector—the nicest man I ever
met.”
George, as was his custom, let all irrelevancies pass.
“But what did you do about this scoundrel?”
“Well, George, I’m afraid I let him do it.”
“Do what?”
“Blackmail me.”
George’s face of horror was so poignant that Virginia had to bite her
under lip.
“You mean—do I understand you to mean—that you did not correct
the misapprehension under which he was labouring?”
Virginia shook her head, shooting a sideways glance at him.
“Good heavens, Virginia, you must be mad.”
“I suppose it would seem that way to you.”
“But why? In God’s name, why?”
“Several reasons. To begin with he was doing it so beautifully—
blackmailing me, I mean—I hate to interrupt an artist when he’s
doing his job really well. And then, you see, I’d never been
blackmailed——”
“I should hope not, indeed.”
“And I wanted to see what it felt like.”
“I am quite at a loss to comprehend you, Virginia.”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“You did not give him money, I hope?”
“Just a trifle,” said Virginia apologetically.
“How much?”
“Forty pounds.”
“Virginia!”
“My dear George, it’s only what I pay for an evening dress. It’s just
as exciting to buy a new experience as it is to buy a new dress—
more so, in fact.”
George Lomax merely shook his head, and Chilvers appearing at that
moment with the tea urn, he was saved from having to express his
outraged feelings. When tea had been brought in, and Virginia’s deft
fingers were manipulating the heavy silver teapot, she spoke again
on the subject.
“I had another motive too, George—a brighter and better one. We
women are usually supposed to be cats, but at any rate I’d done
another woman a good turn this afternoon. This man isn’t likely to
go off looking for another Virginia Revel. He thinks he’s found his
bird all right. Poor little devil, she was in a blue funk when she wrote
that letter. Mr. Blackmailer would have had the easiest job of his life
there. Now, though he doesn’t know it, he’s up against a tough
proposition. Starting with the great advantage of having led a
blameless life, I shall toy with him to his undoing—as they say in
books. Guile, George, lots of guile.”
George still shook his head.
“I don’t like it,” he persisted. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, never mind, George dear. You didn’t come here to talk about
blackmailers. What did you come here for, by the way? Correct
answer: ‘To see you!’ Accent on the you, and press her hand with
significance unless you happen to have been eating heavily buttered
muffin, in which case it must all be done with the eyes.”
“I did come to see you,” replied George seriously. “And I am glad to
find you alone.”
“Oh, George, this is so sudden,” says she, swallowing a currant.
“I wanted to ask a favour of you. I have always considered you,
Virginia, as a woman of considerable charm.”
“Oh, George!”
“And also a woman of intelligence!”
“Not really? How well the man knows me.”
“My dear Virginia, there is a young fellow arriving in England to-
morrow whom I should like you to meet.”
“All right, George, but it’s your party—let that be clearly understood.”
“You could, I feel sure, if you chose, exercise your considerable
charm.”
Virginia cocked her head a little on one side.
“George, dear, I don’t ‘charm’ as a profession, you know. Often I like
people—and then, well, they like me. But I don’t think I could set
out in cold blood to fascinate a helpless stranger. That sort of thing
isn’t done, George, it really isn’t. There are professional sirens who
would do it much better than I should.”
“That is out of the question, Virginia. This young man, he is a
Canadian, by the way, of the name of McGrath——”
“A Canadian of Scotch descent,” says she, deducing brilliantly.
“Is probably quite unused to the higher walks of English society. I
should like him to appreciate the charm and distinction of a real
English gentlewoman.”
“Meaning me?”
“Exactly.”
“Why?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said why? You don’t boom the real English gentlewoman with
every stray Canadian who sets foot upon our shores. What is the
deep idea, George? To put it vulgarly, what do you get out of it?”
“I cannot see that that concerns you, Virginia.”
“I couldn’t possibly go out for an evening and fascinate, unless I
knew all the whys and wherefors.”
“You have a most extraordinary way of putting things, Virginia.
Anyone would think——”
“Wouldn’t they? Come on, George, part with a little more
information.”
“My dear Virginia, matters are likely to be a little strained shortly in a
certain Central European nation. It is important, for reasons which
are immaterial, that this—Mr.—er McGrath should be brought to
realize that the restoring of the Monarchy in Herzoslovakia is
imperative to the peace of Europe.”
“The part about the peace of Europe is all bosh,” said Virginia calmly,
“but I’m all for Monarchies every time, especially for a picturesque
people like the Herzoslovakians. So you’re running a King in the
Herzoslovakian States, are you? Who is he?”
George was reluctant to answer, but did not see his way to avoid the
question. The interview was not going at all as he had planned. He
had foreseen Virginia as a willing, docile tool, receiving his hints
gratefully, and asking no awkward questions. This was far from
being the case. She seemed determined to know all about it and this
George, ever doubtful of female discretion, was determined at all
costs to avoid. He had made a mistake. Virginia was not the woman
for the part. She might, indeed, cause serious trouble. Her account
of her interview with the blackmailer had caused him grave
apprehension. A most undependable creature, with no idea of
treating serious matters seriously.
“Prince Michael Obolovitch,” he replied, as Virginia was obviously
waiting for an answer to her question. “But please let that go no
further.”
“Don’t be absurd, George. There are all sort of hints in the papers
already, and articles cracking up the Obolovitch dynasty and talking
about the murdered Nicholas IV as though he were a cross between
a Saint and a hero instead of a stupid little man besotted by a third-
rate actress.”
George winced. He was more than ever convinced that he had made
a mistake in enlisting Virginia’s aid. He must stave her off quickly.
“You are right, my dear Virginia,” he said hastily, as he rose to his
feet to bid her farewell. “I should not have made the suggestion I
did to you. But we are anxious for the Dominions to see eye to eye
with us on this Herzoslovakian crisis, and McGrath has, I believe,
influence in journalistic circles. As an ardent Monarchist, and with
your knowledge of the country, I thought it a good plan for you to
meet him.”
“So that’s the explanation, is it?”
“Yes, but I dare say you wouldn’t have cared for him.”
Virginia looked at him for a second and then she laughed.
“George,” she said, “you’re a rotten liar.”
“Virginia!”
“Rotten, absolutely rotten! If I had had your training, I could have
managed a better one than that—one that had a chance of being
believed. But I shall find out all about it, my poor George. Rest
assured of that. The Mystery of Mr. McGrath. I shouldn’t wonder if I
got a hint or two at Chimneys this week-end.”
“At Chimneys? You are going to Chimneys?”
George could not conceal his perturbation. He had hoped to reach
Lord Caterham in time for the invitation to remain unissued.
“Bundle rang up and asked me this morning.”
George made a last effort.
“Rather a dull party, I believe,” he said. “Hardly in your line, Virginia.”
“My poor George, why didn’t you tell me the truth and trust me? It’s
still not too late.”
George took her hand and dropped it again limply.
“I have told you the truth,” he said coldly, and he said it without a
blush.
“That’s a better one,” said Virginia approvingly. “But it’s still not good
enough. Cheer up, George, I shall be at Chimneys all right, exerting
my considerable charm—as you put it. Life has become suddenly
very much more amusing. First a blackmailer, and then George in
diplomatic difficulties. Will he tell all to the beautiful woman who
asks for his confidence so pathetically? No, he will reveal nothing
until the last chapter. Good-bye, George. One last fond look before
you go? No? Oh, George, dear, don’t be sulky about it!”
Virginia ran to the telephone as soon as George had departed with a
heavy gait through the front door.
She obtained the number she required and asked to speak to Lady
Eileen Brent.
“Is that you, Bundle? I’m coming to Chimneys all right to-morrow.
What? Bore me? No, it won’t. Bundle, wild horses wouldn’t keep me
away! So there!”
7
Mr. McGrath Refuses an Invitation
The letters were gone!
Having once made up his mind to the fact of their disappearance,
there was nothing to do but accept it. Anthony realized very well
that he could not pursue Giuseppe through the corridors of the Blitz
Hotel. To do so was to court undesired publicity, and in all probability
to fail in his object all the same.
He came to the conclusion that Giuseppe had mistaken the packet of
letters, enclosed as they were in the other wrappings, for the
Memoirs themselves. It was likely therefore that when he discovered
his mistake he would make another attempt to get hold of the
Memoirs. For this attempt Anthony intended to be fully prepared.
Another plan that occurred to him was to advertize discreetly for the
return of the package of letters. Supposing Giuseppe to be an
emissary of the Comrades of the Red Hand, or, which seemed to
Anthony more probable, to be employed by the Loyalist party, the
letters could have no possible interest for either employer and he
would probably jump at the chance of obtaining a small sum of
money for their return.
Having thought out all this, Anthony returned to bed and slept
peacefully until morning. He did not fancy that Giuseppe would be
anxious for a second encounter that night.
Anthony got up with his plan of campaign fully thought out. He had
a good breakfast, glanced at the papers which were full of the new
discoveries of oil in Herzoslovakia, and then demanded an interview
with the manager, and, being Anthony Cade, with a gift for getting
his own way by means of quiet determination, he obtained what he
asked for.
The manager, a Frenchman with an exquisitely suave manner,
received him in his private office.
“You wished to see me, I understand, Mr.—er—McGrath?”
“I did. I arrived at your hotel yesterday afternoon, and I had dinner
served to me in my own rooms by a waiter whose name was
Giuseppe.”
He paused.
“I dare say we have a waiter of that name,” agreed the manager
indifferently.
“I was struck by something unusual in the waiter’s manner, but
thought nothing more of it at the time. Later, in the night, I was
awakened by the sound of some one moving softly about the room.
I switched on the light, and found this same Giuseppe in the act of
rifling my leather suit-case.”
The manager’s indifference had completely disappeared now.
“But I have heard nothing of this,” he exclaimed. “Why was I not
informed sooner?”
“The man and I had a brief struggle—he was armed with a knife by
the way. In the end he succeeded in making off by way of the
window.”
“What did you do then, Mr. McGrath?”
“I examined the contents of my suit-case.”
“Had anything been taken?”
“Nothing of—importance,” said Anthony slowly.
The manager leaned back with a sigh.
“I am glad of that,” he remarked. “But you will allow me to say, Mr.
McGrath, that I do not quite understand your attitude in the matter.
You made no attempt to arouse the hotel? To pursue the thief?”
Anthony shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing of value had been taken, as I tell you. I am aware, of
course, that strictly speaking it is a case for the police——”
He paused, and the manager murmured without any particular
enthusiasm:
“For the police—of course——”
“In any case, I was fairly certain that the man would manage to
make good his escape, and since nothing was taken why bother with
the police?”
The manager smiled a little.
“I see that you realize, Mr. McGrath, that I am not at all anxious to
have the police called in. From my point of view it is always
disastrous. If the newspapers can get hold of anything connected
with a big fashionable hotel such as this, they always run it for all it
is worth, no matter how insignificant the real subject matter may
be.”
“Quite so,” agreed Anthony. “Now I told you that nothing of value
had been taken, and that was perfectly true in a sense. Nothing of
any value to the thief was taken, but he got hold of something which
is of considerable value to me.”
“Ah?”
“Letters, you understand.”
An expression of superhuman discretion, only to be achieved by a
Frenchman, settled down upon the manager’s face.
“I comprehend,” he murmured. “But perfectly. Naturally, it is not a
matter for the police.”
“We are quite agreed upon that point. But you will understand that I
have every intention of recovering these letters. In the part of the
world where I come from, people are used to doing things for
themselves. What I require from you therefore is the fullest possible
information you can give me about this waiter, Giuseppe.”
“I see no objection to that,” said the manager after a moment or
two’s pause. “I cannot give you the information offhand, of course,
but if you will return in half an hour’s time I will have everything
ready to lay before you.”
“Thank you very much. That will suit me admirably.”
In half an hour’s time, Anthony returned to the office again to find
that the manager had been as good as his word. Jotted down upon
a piece of paper were all the relevant facts known about Giuseppe
Manelli.
“He came to us, you see, about three months ago. A skilled and
experienced waiter. Has given complete satisfaction. He has been in
England about five years.”
Together the two men ran over a list of the hotels and restaurants
where the Italian had worked. One fact struck Anthony as being
possibly of significance. At two of the hotels in question there had
been serious robberies during the time that Giuseppe was employed
there, though no suspicion of any kind had attached to him in either
case. Still, the fact was significant.
Was Giuseppe merely a clever hotel thief? Had his search of
Anthony’s suit-case been merely part of his habitual professional
tactics? He might just possibly have had the packet of letters in his
hand at the moment when Anthony switched on the light, and have
shoved it into his pocket mechanically so as to have his hands free.
In that case, the thing was mere plain or garden robbery.
Against that, there was to be put the man’s excitement of the
evening before when he had caught sight of the papers lying on the
table. There had been no money or object of value there such as
would excite the cupidity of an ordinary thief.
No, Anthony felt convinced that Giuseppe had been acting as a tool
for some outside agency. With the information supplied to him by
the manager, it might be possible to learn something about
Giuseppe’s private life, and so finally track him down. He gathered
up the sheet of paper and rose.
“Thank you very much indeed. It’s quite unnecessary to ask, I
suppose, whether Giuseppe is still in the hotel?”
The manager smiled.
“His bed was not slept in, and all his things have been left behind.
He must have rushed straight out after his attack upon you. I don’t
think there is much chance of our seeing him again.”
“I imagine not. Well, thank you very much indeed. I shall be staying
on here for the present.”
“I hope you will be successful in your task, but I confess that I am
rather doubtful.”
“I always hope for the best.”
One of Anthony’s first proceedings was to question some of the
other waiters who had been friendly with Giuseppe, but he obtained
very little to go upon. He wrote out an advertisement on the lines he
had planned, and had it sent to five of the most widely read
newspapers. He was just about to go out and visit the restaurant at
which Giuseppe had been previously employed when the telephone
rang. Anthony took up the receiver.
“Hullo, what is it?”
A toneless voice replied.
“Am I speaking to Mr. McGrath?”
“You are. Who are you?”
“This is Messrs. Balderson and Hodgkins. Just a minute, please. I will
put you through to Mr. Balderson.”
“Our worthy publishers,” thought Anthony. “So they are getting
worried too, are they? They needn’t. There’s a week to run still.”
A hearty voice struck suddenly upon his ear.
“Hullo! That Mr. McGrath?”
“Speaking.”
“I’m Mr. Balderson of Balderson and Hodgkins. What about that
manuscript, Mr. McGrath?”
“Well,” said Anthony, “what about it?”
“Everything about it. I understand, Mr. McGrath, that you have just
arrived in this country from South Africa. That being so, you can’t
possibly understand the position. There’s going to be trouble about
that manuscript, Mr. McGrath, big trouble. Sometimes I wish we’d
never said we’d handle it.”
“Indeed?”
“I assure you it’s so. At present I’m anxious to get it into my
possession as quickly as possible, so as to have a couple of copies
made. Then, if the original is destroyed—well, no harm will be done.”
“Dear me,” said Anthony.
“Yes, I expect it sounds absurd to you, Mr. McGrath. But, I assure
you, you don’t appreciate the situation. There’s a determined effort
being made to prevent its ever reaching this office. I say to you
quite frankly and without humbug that if you attempt to bring it
yourself it’s ten to one that you’ll never get here.”
“I doubt that,” said Anthony. “When I want to get anywhere, I
usually do.”
“You’re up against a very dangerous lot of people. I wouldn’t have
believed it myself a month ago. I tell you, Mr. McGrath, we’ve been
bribed and threatened and cajoled by one lot and another until we
don’t know whether we’re on our heads or our heels. My suggestion
is that you do not attempt to bring the manuscript here. One of our
people will call upon you at the hotel and take possession of it.”
“And supposing the gang does him in?” asked Anthony.
“The responsibility would then be ours—not yours. You would have
delivered it to our representative and obtained a written discharge.
The cheque for—er—a thousand pounds which we are instructed to
hand to you will not be available until Wednesday next by the terms
of our agreement with the executors of the late—er—author—you
know whom I mean, but if you insist I will send my own cheque for
that amount by the messenger.”
Anthony reflected for a minute or two. He had intended to keep the
Memoirs until the last day of grace, because he was anxious to see
for himself what all the fuss was about. Nevertheless, he realized the
force of the publisher’s arguments.
“All right,” he said, with a little sigh. “Have it your own way. Send
your man along. And if you don’t mind sending that cheque as well
I’d rather have it now, as I may be going out of England before next
Wednesday.”
“Certainly, Mr. McGrath. Our representative will call upon you first
thing to-morrow morning. It will be wiser not to send anyone direct
from the office. Our Mr. Holmes lives in South London. He will call in
on his way to us, and will give you a receipt for the package. I
suggest that to-night you should place a dummy packet in the
manager’s safe. Your enemies will get to hear of this, and it will
prevent any attack being made upon your apartments to-night.”
“Very well, I will do as you direct.”
Anthony hung up the receiver with a thoughtful face.
Then he went on with his interrupted plan of seeking news of the
slippery Giuseppe. He drew a complete blank, however. Giuseppe
had worked at the restaurant in question, but nobody seemed to
know anything of his private life or associates.
“But I’ll get you, my lad,” murmured Anthony, between his teeth. “I’ll
get you yet. It’s only a matter of time.”
His second night in London was entirely peaceful.
At nine o’clock the following morning, the card of Mr. Holmes from
Messrs. Balderson and Hodgkins was sent up, and Mr. Holmes
followed it. A small, fair man with a quiet manner. Anthony handed
over the manuscript, and received in exchange a cheque for a
thousand pounds. Mr. Holmes packed up the manuscript in the small
brown bag he carried, wished Anthony good morning, and departed.
The whole thing seemed very tame.
“But perhaps he’ll be murdered on the way there,” Anthony
murmured aloud, as he stared idly out of the window. “I wonder
now—I very much wonder.”
He put the cheque in an envelope, enclosed a few lines of writing
with it, and sealed it up carefully. Jimmy, who had been more or less
in funds at the time of his encounter with Anthony at Bulawayo, had
advanced him a substantial sum of money which was, as yet,
practically untouched.
“If one’s job’s done with, the other isn’t,” said Anthony to himself.
“Up to now, I’ve bungled it. But never say die. I think that, suitably
disguised, I shall go and have a look at 487, Pont Street.”
He packed his belongings, went down and paid his bill, and ordered
his luggage to be put on a taxi. Suitably rewarding those who stood
in his path, most of whom had done nothing whatever materially to
add to his comfort, he was on the point of being driven off, when a
small boy rushed down the steps with a letter.
“Just come for you, this very minute, sir.”
With a sigh, Anthony produced yet another shilling. The taxi groaned
heavily and jumped forward with a hideous crashing of gears, and
Anthony opened the letter.
It was rather a curious document. He had to read it four times
before he could be sure of what it was all about. Put in plain English
(the letter was not in plain English, but in the peculiar involved style
common to missives issued by Government officials) it presumed
that Mr. McGrath was arriving in England from South Africa to-day—
Thursday, it referred obliquely to the Memoirs of Count Stylptitch,
and begged Mr. McGrath to do nothing in the matter until he had
had a confidential conversation with Mr. George Lomax, and certain
other parties whose magnificence was vaguely hinted at. It also
contained a definite invitation to go down to Chimneys as the guest
of Lord Caterham, on the following day, Friday.
A mysterious and thoroughly obscure communication. Anthony
enjoyed it very much.
“Dear old England,” he murmured affectionately. “Two days behind
the times, as usual. Rather a pity. Still, I can’t go down to Chimneys
under false pretences. I wonder, though, if there’s an inn handy? Mr.
Anthony Cade might stay at the inn without anyone being the wiser.”
He leaned out of the window, and gave new directions to the taxi
driver, who acknowledged them with a snort of contempt.
The taxi drew up before one of London’s more obscure hostelries.
The fare, however, was paid on a scale befitting its point of
departure.
Having booked a room in the name of Anthony Cade, Anthony
passed into a dingy writing-room, took out a sheet of notepaper
stamped with the legend Hotel Blitz, and wrote rapidly.
He explained that he had arrived on the preceding Tuesday, that he
had handed over the manuscript in question to Messrs. Balderson
and Hodgkins, and he regretfully declined the kind invitation of Lord
Caterham as he was leaving England almost immediately. He signed
the letter “Yours faithfully, James McGrath.”
“And now,” said Anthony, as he affixed the stamp to the envelope.
“To business. Exit James McGrath, and Enter Anthony Cade.”
8
A Dead Man
On that same Thursday afternoon Virginia Revel had been playing
tennis at Ranelagh. All the way back to Pont Street, as she lay back
in the long, luxurious limousine, a little smile played upon her lips, as
she rehearsed her part in the forthcoming interview. Of course it was
within the bounds of possibility that the blackmailer might not
reappear, but she felt pretty certain that he would. She had shown
herself an easy prey. Well, perhaps this time there would be a little
surprise for him!
When the car drew up at the house, she turned to speak to the
chauffeur before going up the steps.
“How’s your wife, Walton? I forgot to ask.”
“Better I think, ma’am. The doctor said he’d look in and see her
about half-past six. Will you be wanting the car again?”
Virginia reflected for a minute.
“I shall be away for the week-end. I’m going by the 6.40 from
Paddington, but I shan’t need you again—a taxi will do for that. I’d
rather you saw the doctor. If he thinks it would do your wife good to
go away for the week-end, take her somewhere, Walton. I’ll stand
the expense.”
Cutting short the man’s thanks with an impatient nod of the head,
Virginia ran up the steps, delved into her bag in search of her
latchkey, remembered she hadn’t got it with her, and hastily rang the
bell.
It was not answered at once, but as she waited there a young man
came up the steps. He was shabbily dressed, and carried in his hand
a sheaf of leaflets. He held one out to Virginia with the legend on it
plainly visible: “Why Did I Serve my Country?” In his left hand he
held a collecting-box.
“I can’t buy two of those awful poems in one day,” said Virginia
pleadingly. “I bought one this morning. I did, indeed, honour bright.”
The young man threw back his head and laughed. Virginia laughed
with him. Running her eyes carelessly over him, she thought him a
more pleasing specimen than usual of London’s unemployed. She
liked his brown face, and the lean hardness of him. She went so far
as to wish she had a job for him.
But at that moment the door opened, and immediately Virginia
forgot all about the problem of the unemployed, for to her
astonishment the door was opened by her own maid, Élise.
“Where’s Chilvers?” she demanded sharply, as she stepped into the
hall.
“But he is gone, madame, with the others.”
“What others? Gone where?”
“But to Datchet, madame—to the cottage, as your telegram said.”
“My telegram?” said Virginia, utterly at sea.
“Did not madame send a telegram? Surely there can be no mistake.
It came but an hour ago.”
“I never sent any telegram. What did it say?”
“I believe it is still on the table là-bas.”
Élise retired, pounced upon it, and brought it to her mistress in
triumph.
“Voilà, madame!”
The telegram was addressed to Chilvers and ran as follows:
“Please take household down to cottage at once, and make
preparations for week-end party there. Catch 5.49 train.”
There was nothing unusual about it, it was just the sort of message
she herself had frequently sent before, when she had arranged a
party at her riverside bungalow on the spur of the moment. She
always took the whole household down, leaving an old woman as
caretaker. Chilvers would not have seen anything wrong with the
message, and like a good servant had carried out his orders
faithfully enough.
“Me, I remained,” explained Élise, “knowing that madame would
wish me to pack for her.”
“It’s a silly hoax,” cried Virginia, flinging down the telegram angrily.
“You know perfectly well, Élise, that I am going to Chimneys. I told
you so this morning.”
“I thought madame had changed her mind. Sometimes that does
happen, does it not, madame?”
Virginia admitted the truth of the accusation with a half smile. She
was busy trying to find a reason for this extraordinary practical joke.
Élise cut forward a suggestion.
“Mon Dieu!” she cried, clasping her hands. “If it should be the
malefactors, the thieves! They send the bogus telegram and get the
domestiques all out of the house, and then they rob it.”
“I suppose that might be it,” said Virginia doubtfully.
“Yes, yes, madame, that is it without a doubt. Every day you read in
the papers of such things. Madame will ring up the police at once—
at once—before they arrive and cut our throats.”
“Don’t get so excited, Élise. They won’t come and cut our throats at
six o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Madame, I implore you, let me run out and fetch a policeman now,
at once.”
“What on earth for? Don’t be silly, Élise. Go up and pack my things
for Chimneys if you haven’t already done it. The new Cailleuax
evening dress, and the white crêpe marocain, and—yes, the black
velvet—black velvet is so political, is it not?”
“Madame looks ravishing in the eau de nil satin,” suggested Élise,
her professional instincts reasserting themselves.
“No, I won’t take that. Hurry up, Élise, there’s a good girl. We’ve got
very little time. I’ll send a wire to Chilvers at Datchet, and I’ll speak
to the policeman on the beat as we go out and tell him to keep an
eye on the place. Don’t start rolling your eyes again, Élise—if you
get so frightened before anything has happened, what would you do
if a man jumped out from some dark corner and stuck a knife into
you?”
Élise gave vent to a shrill squeak, and beat a speedy retreat up the
stairs, darting nervous glances over each shoulder as she went.
Virginia made a face at her retreating back, and crossed the hall to
the little study where the telephone was. Élise’s suggestion of
ringing up the police station seemed to her a good one, and she
intended to act upon it without any further delay.
She opened the study door and crossed to the telephone. Then, with
her hand on the receiver, she stopped. A man was sitting in the big
arm-chair, sitting in a curious huddled position. In the stress of the
moment, she had forgotten all about her expected visitor. Apparently
he had fallen asleep whilst waiting for her.
She came right up to the chair, a slightly mischievous smile upon her
face. And then suddenly the smile faded.
The man was not asleep. He was dead.
She knew it at once, knew it instinctively even before her eyes had
seen and noted the small shining pistol lying on the floor, the little-
singed hole just above the heart with the dark stain round it, and
the horrible dropped jaw.
She stood quite still, her hands pressed to her sides. In the silence
she heard Élise running down the stairs.
“Madame! Madame!”
“Well, what is it?”
She moved quickly to the door. Her whole instinct was to conceal
what had happened—for the moment anyway—from Élise. Élise
would promptly go into hysterics, she knew that well enough, and
she felt a great need for calm and quiet in which to think things out.
“Madame, would it not be better if I should draw the chain across
the door? These malefactors, at any minute they may arrive.”
“Yes, if you like. Anything you like.”
She heard the rattle of the chain, and then Élise running upstairs
again, and drew a long breath of relief.
She looked at the man in the chair and then at the telephone. Her
course was quite clear, she must ring up the police at once.
But still she did not do so. She stood quite still, paralysed with horror
and with a host of conflicting ideas rushing through her brain. The
bogus telegram. Had it something to do with this? Supposing Élise
had not stayed behind? She would have let herself in—that is,
presuming she had had her latchkey with her as usual, to find
herself alone in the house with a murdered man—a man whom she
had permitted to blackmail her on a former occasion. Of course she
had an explanation of that; but thinking of that explanation she was
not quite easy in her mind. She remembered how frankly incredible
George had found it. Would other people think the same. Those
letters now—of course she hadn’t written them, but would it be so
easy to prove that?
She put her hands on her forehead, squeezing them tight together.
“I must think,” said Virginia. “I simply must think.”
Who had let the man in? Surely not Élise. If she had done so, she
would have been sure to have mentioned the fact at once. The
whole thing seemed more and more mysterious as she thought
about it. There was really only one thing to be done—ring up the
police.
She stretched out her hand to the telephone, and suddenly she
thought of George. A man—that was what she wanted—an ordinary
level-headed, unemotional man who would see things in their proper
proportion and point out to her the best course to take.
Then she shook her head. Not George. The first thing George would
think of would be his own position. He would hate being mixed up in
this kind of business. George wouldn’t do at all.
Then her face softened. Bill, of course! Without more ado, she rang
up Bill.
She was informed that he had left half an hour ago for Chimneys.
“Oh, damn!” cried Virginia, jamming down the receiver. It was
horrible to be shut up with a dead body and to have no one to speak
to.
And at that minute the front-door bell rang.
Virginia jumped. In a few minutes it rang again. Élise, she knew, was
upstairs packing and wouldn’t hear it.
Virginia went out in the hall, drew back the chain, and undid all the
bolts that Élise had fastened in her zeal. Then, with a long breath,
she threw open the door. On the steps was the unemployed young
man.
Virginia plunged headlong with a relief born of overstrung nerves.
“Come in,” she said. “I think that perhaps I’ve got a job for you.”
She took him into the dining-room, pulled toward a chair for him, sat
down herself facing him, and stared at him very attentively.
“Excuse me,” she said, “but are you—I mean——”
“Eton and Oxford,” said the young man. “That’s what you wanted to
ask me, wasn’t it?”
“Something of the kind,” admitted Virginia.
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