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"Is that final, Governor?" "Quite final." "Well, good evening, then." SHACKWELL and the Governor sat over the evening embers. It was after ten o'clock, and the servant had carried away the coffee and liqueurs, leaving the two men to their cigars. Mornway had once more lapsed into his arm-chair, and sat with out-stretched feet, gazing comfortably at his friend.
IT was the custodian of his own hidden treasure who at this moment broke in upon his musings. Mrs. Mornway, fresh from her afternoon walk, entered the room with that air of ease and lightness which seemed to diffuse a social warmth about her; fine, slender, pliant, so polished and modeled by an intelligent experience of life that youth seemed clumsy in her presence.
You accused me of selling those letters to the 'Spy' " The Governor made an impatient gesture. "You couldn't prove your case," Gregg went on imperturbably, "but you were right in one respect. I was on confidential terms with the 'Spy." He paused and glanced at Mornway, whose face remained immovable.
Shackwell nodded his assent and turned away without answering. As he came out of the lobby into the clear sunset radiance he saw a victoria drive up the long sweep to the Capitol and pause before the central portion. He descended the steps, and Mrs. Mornway leaned from her furs to greet him. "I have called for my husband," she said, smiling.
The "Spy" was in possession of the facts, but did not mean to use them if Fleetwood was not reappointed, the Lead Trust having no personal grudge against Mornway. Her story ended there, and she sat silent while he continued to look at her. So much had perished in the wreck of his faith that he did not attach much value to what remained.
Gregg was still the soft-stepping scoundrel who invited the toe of honesty, and Mornway, as he entered, was conscious of a sharp revulsion of feeling. But it was impossible to evade the interview, and he sat silent while the man stated his case. Mrs.
For a man careless of personal ease, Mornway was singularly alive to the domestic amenities.
The room swam about Shackwell, and when he recovered himself, Mornway, with outstretched hand, was advancing quietly to meet his guest. Fleetwood was a smaller man than the Governor. He was erect and compact, with a face full of dry energy, which seemed to press forward with the spring of his prominent features, as though it were the weapon with which he cleared his way through the world.
What on earth are you driving at? Of course Fleetwood will persist in refusing." Mornway smiled. "He did persist for three hours. But when he left here just now he had given me his word to accept." Shackwell groaned. "Then I am dealing with two madmen instead of one." The Governor laughed. "My poor Hadley, you're worse than I expected. I thought you would understand me." "Understand you?
The Governor did not blanch under the attack. "I think the letter will answer you," he said calmly. "The letter?" "Yes. It's something more than a notification of Fleetwood's reappointment." Mornway paused and looked steadily at his friend. "You're afraid of an investigation an impeachment? Well, the letter anticipates that." "How, in heaven's name?" "By a plain statement of the facts.
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