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Updated: May 1, 2025
It's true be certain of that, you soft-hearted fool. I tell the truth sometimes, Roy when it serves my purpose. And I want you to imagine the details of what is going to happen to her. Think of it, Roy the Lady of the Golden Bough, the saintly Mrs. Swope, the sweet Mary Baintree that was lying in Fitzgibbon's arms! Pretty thought!" Chuckling, Swope resumed his seat.
If you hadn't been in such a hurry to leave town! But then I was just as well pleased. With Beulah out of the way as well as you it was plain sailing with Mary, Roy. "No, I never wanted Mary. Not for herself. She's not my kind, Roy; a damned, sniveling saint isn't my idea of a woman. But I wanted her money. Old Baintree's money. And I got it. "I got Baintree, too.
"He has helped you a lot in the past, hasn't he, Roy? And He has helped her a lot, hasn't he? Helped her to stand me. Oh, that's a joke! The just and merciful One d'you remember how old Baintree used to rant? You approved, didn't you. You agreed with old Baintree. So did I, Roy, to his face. "But you why you were a damned Puritan, Roy.
You wouldn't do this, you wouldn't do that, you would be clean of vice your very words, Roy! and you would be honest and just with men. That's the sort of thing that paid, says you. "And didn't it pay you, though! Ho, ho; it's too rich, Roy! You would make yourself as good a man as old Baintree; you would make yourself worthy of his daughter. Remember telling me that?
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