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Updated: June 21, 2025
Had Daverill seen his way to doing so he would have made light of bigamy. Besides, was it likely his first wife would claim him? He preferred to suppress his real reason for refusing to "make an honest woman" of Miss Julia, and to take advantage of the fact that his "real wife" Polly was still living. Then Miss Hawkins had made a proposal which showed a curious frame of mind about marriage law.
The latter need not read the chronicle certainly; there is always that resource! If, however, he reads this one, let him keep in mind that Aunt M'riar did not know that the escaped prisoner of her newspaper-cutting had been asking for a widow of the name of Daverill, whom he had somehow traced to Sapps Court, any more than she knew at that date that old Mrs.
As for her, she was literally speechless, for the moment. At last she just found voice to gasp out: "Oh, Daverill, you can't mean it! Give it me back oh, give it me back! Will you give it me back for money?... Oh, how can you have the heart?..." "Let's see the money. How much have you got? Put it down on this here table." He seemed to imply that he was open to negotiation.
The consequence was that every plain-clothes emissary put himself into direct personal communication with her, thereby ensuring the absence of Daverill from Sapps Court. She was of course guilty of a certain amount of duplicity in all this, and it weighed heavily on her conscience. But there was something to be said by way of excuse.
Uncle Moses took his pipe out of his mouth to say, almost oratorically: "Don't you re-member, Jerry, me telling you Sunday six weeks it was about a loafing wagabond who came into this Court to hunt up a widder named Daverill or Daffodil, or some such a name?" Uncle Moses paused a moment. A plate had fallen in the kitchen. Nothing was broke, Aunt M'riar testified, and closed the door.
Listen to it and fill in the blanks if you can with surmise of alleviation, with interstices of hypothetical happiness however little warrant the known facts of the case may carry with them. Thornton Daverill was destined to bring down Nemesis on his head by touching Themis on a sensitive point monetary integrity.
"To Sapps Court, where Mrs. Treadwell directed me where her nephew lives. That's this boy's father. You'll find that right." "Your Mrs. Treadmill, she's all right. Sapps Court's all right of itself. But it ain't the Court I was tracking out. If it was, they'd have known the name of Daverill. Why the place ain't no bigger than a prison yard!
This Police-Inspector must have been Simeon Rowe, whom you may remember as stroke-oar of the boat that was capsized there in the winter, when Sergeant Ibbetson of the river-police met his death in the attempt to capture Daverill. Uncle Mo's motive in visiting the police-station had not been only to shake hands with the son of an old acquaintance.
"Shall I tell you, Polly, my angel? Shall I tell you, respectable married woman?" "Don't werrit me, Daverill. I don't deserve it of you!" "Right you are, old Polly! And told you shall be!... Sure you want to know?... There, there easy does it! I'm a-telling of you." He suddenly changed his manner, and spoke quickly, collectedly, drily. "The name on your stifficate ain't the correct name.
But he seemed reluctant to leave the widows down this Court unsifted, saying: "You're sure there ain't any other old party now?" To which Uncle Moses responded: "Ne'er a one, master, to my knowledge. Widow Daverill she's somewheres else. Not down this Court!" He said it in a valedictory way as though he had no wish to open a new subject, and considered this one closed.
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