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Updated: June 2, 2025
Barrington," Aynesworth answered, "but I will endeavor to keep in mind your point of view." Barrington drove straight home, and made his way directly to his study. Now that he was free from his wife's influence, and looked back upon his recent interview, he realized for the first time the folly and indignity of the whole proceedings.
If my story interests you, you must build up your own idea of her." "Becky Sharpe!" Aynesworth murmured. Lovell nodded. "Perhaps," he admitted, "only Ruth was a lady. To go on with my story. A hunting coterie, as you fellows know, means lots of liberty, and a general free-and-easiness amongst the sexes, which naturally leads to flirtations more or less serious.
Afterwards, he watched her turn with slow, reluctant footsteps to the unpromising abode which she had pointed out. Aynesworth made his way to the inn, cursing his impecuniosity and Wingrave's brutal indifference. He found the latter busy writing letters. "Doing your work, Aynesworth?" he remarked coldly.
I lived with you, was always by your side, I was there professedly to study your actions and the method of them. And yet you found it a perfectly simple matter to hoodwink me whenever you chose!" "In what respect?" Wingrave asked calmly. "Every respect!" Aynesworth answered. "Let me tell you two things which happened to me yesterday.
Studying her for a moment, he realized the danger more acutely than ever before. The fretfulness seemed to have gone from her face, the weary lines from her mouth. She had the look of a woman who has come into the knowledge of better things. And it was Wingrave who had done this! Aynesworth for the first time frankly hated the man.
"Aynesworth," he said, "do I understand that you are not going to marry the child?" "I? Certainly not!" Aynesworth answered. Wingrave remained quite calm, but there was a terrible light in his eyes. "Now, for the first time, Aynesworth," he said, "I am glad that you are here. We are going to have a complete understanding before you leave this room.
Once, as a boy, he had seen a keeper take a rabbit from a trap and dash its brains out against a tree. The incident flashed then into his mind, only the face of the keeper was the face of Wingrave! Wingrave and Aynesworth were alone in a private room of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. The table at which the former was seated was covered with letters and papers.
"Have we finished this miserable business?" Aynesworth asked. "For the present," Wingrave answered. "Mr. Malcolmson will supply you with a copy of the accounts. See that Hardwell is credited with a quarter share of the profits. Our dealings are over for the present. Be prepared to start on Saturday for the West. We are going to look for those bears." "But the mine?" Aynesworth exclaimed.
Wingrave shrugged his shoulders. "It seems to me," he said, "that the young lady is very well off as she is. She has lived in my house, and been taken care of by my servants. She has been relieved of all the material cares of life, and she has been her own mistress. I scarcely see how you, my young friend, could do better for her." Aynesworth moved a step nearer to him.
"A definite scheme of ill-doing," Aynesworth ventured to suggest, "would be more satisfactory?" "Exactly," he admitted. He called for the bill, and his eyes wandered once more around the room as the waiter counted out the change. The band were playing the "Valse Amoureuse"; the air was grown heavy with the odor of tobacco and the mingled perfumes of flowers and scents.
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