Maske: Thaery by Jack Vance

Jubal. “I use no man’s side entrance.”
    “This is Wysrod, not Glentlin, and we must make concessions to local propriety.”
    “If you recall,” said Jubal, “I am here to discuss a matter of propriety: a criminal act committed by your daughter. She is the one who should use the side door, not I.”
    Nai the Hever made a small crisp gesture. “Come, let us make an end to this sorry affair. Flanish, ask Lady Mieltrude to join us in the small salon.” And to Jubal: “This way, please.” He led Jubal into a room hung with a pair of magnificent Djan tapestries: jungle landscapes woven of violet, green and dark red filaments. A white carpet muffled the floor; a pair of ancient Djan pots rested on an ivorywood table. Nai the Hever remained standing, nor did he invite Jubal to sit. A minute passed. Nai the Hever spoke casually: “I am accustomed to informality; in my position I deal with persons of every caste. The Lady Mieltrude, on the other hand, is quite conventional; she allows considerations of decorum to influence her conduct, so be guided.”
    Jubal’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “Can you not understand that your daughter has committed a vicious crime? Do you consider this decorous conduct?”
    “We shortly will hear the Lady Mieltrude’s views on the matter. I emphasize that she will respond only to correct behavior.”
    “Perhaps then you would prefer to question her.”
    “Not at all,” said Nai the Hever. “You are anxious to learn certain facts. This is a reasonable request; I acquiesce. But I am not here to assist your inquisition.”
    “As you wish.”
    “Please do not lean on that table,” said Nai the Hever. “It is extremely old and has never been dealt with roughly.”
    “I only laid my hand on the piece!” retorted Jubal in indignation. “What do you take me for?”
    Nai the Hever gave an uninterested shrug. He turned as Mieltrude entered the room. She wore an informal white gown; under a quat of limp pale blue leather her pale hair hung smooth to the turn of her jaw.
    Ignoring Jubal, she looked with an almost demure expression to her father. “You asked me to join you?”
    “Yes, my dear, a matter to be clarified. This is Jubal Droad, whom you brought to the Parloury.”
    “I remember distinctly.”
    “He claims to have suffered inconvenience; he begs to place one or two perplexities before you, that you may elucidate the facts to his understanding.”
    “I will resolve his problems as best I may, but I hope he will be expeditious, as I am expecting a telephone call.”
    “Thank you, my dear. Jubal Droad, you may explain your difficulties.”
    Jubal had listened with amazement, looking from one to the other. He addressed Nai the Hever. “Do I hear aright? Are these the terms in which we discussed this matter?”
    “Please explain the areas of your uncertainty.”
    Jubal struggled with words, then brought out the bogus warrant: “Did you or did you not take out this warrant against my life?”
    Mieltrude inspected the document with minimal interest. “I recall something of the sort.”
    “The warrant is illegal. You have committed a crime.”
    Mieltrude let the warrant slip from her fingers to the floor. “The events have run their course.” She turned to her father. “I do not think we need take them any further.”
    Jubal persisted. “You admit that you elicited this warrant?”
    “The topic has no present application; my best advice is that you dismiss the entire matter… Will you be at home this evening, Father? We must make a start at reworking our guest-list.”
    Jubal turned to Nai the Hever. “Sir, will you be good enough to explain to your daughter that this is not one of her usual frivolities. Please point out that a warrant has been issued against her and that she is liable for punishment.”
    Nai the Hever reflected a moment. “Allow me a conjecture. Perhaps a paper was placed before the Lady Mieltrude, with a suggestion that traditional stabilities