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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Until to-morrow at five, Donald, since you will persist in being obstinate," he heard Nan say, as they reached the gate and paused there. "Good-night, dear." Andrew Daney waited no longer, but turned and fled into the darkness.
Nan only realized that, in handing her a roll of bank-notes with a rubber band round them, Andrew Daney had figuratively given her the key to her prison, against the bars of which her soul had beaten for three long years.
"Yes, yes; I know what you're going to say. Do you really think she would go as far as that, Andrew?" Mrs. McKaye was very pale. "Beware the anger of a woman scorned," he quoted. "In the event that she should, Mr. Daney, we should have no other alternative but to deny it." Elizabeth was speaking. She still wore her impish glacial smile.
"She traveled to the same places an' put up at the same hotels that I did," Dirty Dan replied evasively, for his natural love for intrigue bade him hoard his secret to the last. Daney sat down and said very quietly: "Dan, do you know where Nan Brent may be found?" "Where she may be found? Faith, I can tell you where she can be found but I'll not." "Why not?"
Besides, I do not hanker to see people squirm with suffering." She wrinkled her nose once more and was silent. As Mr. Daney had declared, there was none in Port Agnew possessed of sufficient hardihood to inform the Laird of his son's lowly status and it was three weeks before he discovered it for himself.
I cannot afford the gratification of very many desires even very simple ones, Mr. Daney but this happens to be one of the rare occasions when I can. To quote Sir Anthony Gloster, 'Thank God I can pay for my fancies! The Laird doesn't owe me a dollar, and I beg you, Mr. Daney, not to distress me by offering it." "But, my dear girl, it has cost you at least five hundred dollars "
I'm back in the harness and back to stay, and at that I'm not so certain it isn't the best thing for me, under the present circumstances. I dare say," he added, with a sudden change of tone, "the news is all over Port Agnew this morning." Mr. Daney nodded.
McKaye's pride and resentment are not so intense that she will sacrifice her son to them." "Then give her this address," Daney suggested weakly, and handed it over. "I'm caught between the upper and nether millstone, and I don't care what happens to me. Damn the women, say I. Damn them! Damn them!
Daney, although a mere man, would have concluded them without compromising the McKaye family. Surely he would have had the good taste to assure Nan that he was acting entirely upon his own initiative. On the instant, Mrs. McKaye hated the unfortunate general manager.
The outcast of Port Agnew rose, filled her apron with the driftwood she had gathered, and called to her child. As the little fellow approached, Mrs. Daney so far forgot her perturbation as to look at him keenly and decide, eventually, that he bore not the faintest resemblance to Donald McKaye.
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