It was
too late now. Explanation was useless. The only plea that occurred to
him was more deadly than silence, since it was her knowledge of the
contemplated crime that made Iris a stowaway. He had never guessed how
that knowledge was attained and the added mystery intensified his
torture.
Dickey rose from the table. His movements showed his age that night.
"I'll think it over, David," he said. "There's more in this than meets
the eye. I'll just go home an' think it over. Mebbe I'll call at your
place in the mornin'."
So here was Verity, awaiting Bulmer's visit as a criminal awaits a
hangman. There was no shred of hope in his mind that his one-time
crony would raise a finger to save him from bankruptcy. Some offenses
are unforgivable, and high in the list ranks the folly of separating a
wealthy old man from his promised bride.
Now that a reprieve was seemingly impossible, he faced his misfortunes
with a dour courage. It had been a difficult and thankless task during
the past month to stave off pressing creditors. With Iris in Bootle
and Bulmer her devoted slave, Verity would have weathered the gale with
jaunty self-confidence. But that element of strength was lacking; nay,
more, he felt in his heart that it could never be replaced.
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