"
"It isn't! It's too soon!" Grim answered, bringing down a clenched fist
on his knee, and Feisul laughed in spite of himself.
"You talk like a prophet, Jimgrim, but let me tell you something. It is
mainly a question of money after all. The British paid us a subsidy
until they withdrew from Syria. They did their best for us even then,
for they left behind guns, ammunition, wagons and supplies. When the
French seized the ports they promised to continue the subsidy, because
they are collecting the customs dues and we have no other revenue worth
mentioning. But rather than send us money the French have told our
people not to pay taxes; so our treasury is empty. Nevertheless, we
contrived by one means and another. We arranged a bank credit, and
ordered supplies from abroad. The supplies have reached Beirut, but the
French have ordered the bank to cancel the credit, and until we pay for
the supplies they are withheld."
"Any gas masks among the supplies you ordered?" Grim asked him; and
Feisul nodded.
"That banker has played fast and loose with us until the last minute.
Relying on our undertaking not to molest foreigners he has resided in
Damascus, making promises one day and breaking them the next, keeping
his funds in Beirut and his agency here, draining money out of the
country all the while.
Pages:
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195