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Updated: June 20, 2025
Therefore,—she almost ground her pretty teeth at the thought of it,—old Marraville and his family had turned to Braden Thorpe as one without honour or conscience!
This man Braden had all the fun, apparently, in sitting in a chair and looking into space that Stonewall Jackson had, or an ordinary man in watching a performance of "A Trip to Chinatown." Let it not be inferred, again, that Mr. Crewe was abashed; but he was puzzled. "I had an engagement in Ripton this morning," he said, "to see about some business matters.
It was an open secret to them that Job Braden for reasons of his own had chosen Mr. Crewe to represent them, and they were mildly amused at the efforts of Mrs. Pomfret and her assistants to secure votes which were as certain as the sun's rising on the morrow. It was some time before Austen came upon the object of his search though scarce admitting to himself that it had an object.
More than one parlour-maid had been dismissed for offensive neatness. She closed her eyes for a second. A faint line, as of pain, appeared between them. In this room Braden Thorpe had been coddled and scolded, in this room he had romped and studied—She opened her eyes quickly. "Murray," she said, in a low voice; "you are quite sure that Mr. Braden is—is out?"
Wraye has been a difficult man to trace, because of his residence abroad for a long time and his change of name, and so on, and it was only recently that my agents struck on a line through Flood. But there's the fact. And the probability is that when Braden came here he recognized and was recognized by these two, and that one or other of them is responsible for his death and for Collishaw's too.
It was Templeton Thorpe's contention that Braden was a family investment, and that a good investment will take care of itself if properly handled. He considered himself quite capable of making a man of Braden, but he did not allow the boy to think that the job was a one-sided undertaking. Braden worked for all that he received. There was no silver platter, no golden spoon in Mr. Thorpe's cupboard.
Anne was now sullenly determined that nothing should intervene to prevent the marriage, unless an unkind Providence ordered the death of Templeton Thorpe. She was bitter toward Braden. Down in her soul, she knew that he was justified in the stand he had taken, and in that knowledge lay the secret of her revolt against one of the commands of Nature.
"I have been dreading the—I have found myself wondering if you would give him those tablets. Look me straight in the eye, Braden. You will not do that, will you?" "Never!" he exclaimed. "You don't know what that means to me," she said in a low voice. Again there was a long silence. He was studying her face, and queer notions were entering his brain. "Another question, please, and that is all.
Thank you for—for letting me speak with you to-night." She left the room. He stood quite still for a full minute, staring at the closed door. Then he passed his hand over his eyes as if to shut out the vision that remained. He knew now that his grandfather was right. In the hall upstairs he found Wade. "Time you were in bed," said Braden shortly. "Get a little rest, man. I am here now.
"Sit up close, and let's hear what my future grandson had to say." Braden Thorpe had spent two years in the New York hospitals, after graduation from Johns Hopkins, and had been sent to Germany and Austria by his grandfather when he was twenty-seven, to work under the advanced scientists of Vienna and Berlin.
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