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Updated: May 8, 2025
Larne and her children. This, as you know, is a breach of trust on your part." The old man's voice: "Where did you get hold of that cock-and-bull story?" brought him to his feet before the fire. "It won't do, Mr. Heythorp. My witnesses are Mr. Pillin, Mrs. Larne, and Mr. Scriven." "What have you come here for, then blackmail?" Mr.
Old Heythorp held out to him the crumpled letter. When he had read it Joe Pillin sat down abruptly before the fire. "Pull yourself together, Joe; they can't touch you, and they can't upset either the purchase or the settlement. They can upset me, that's all." Joe Pillin answered, with trembling lips: "How you can sit there, and look the same as ever! Are you sure they can't touch me?"
The long table was still littered with the ink, pens, blotting-paper, and abandoned documents of six persons a deserted battlefield of the brain. And, lonely, in his chairman's seat at the top end old Sylvanus Heythorp sat, with closed eyes, still and heavy as an image.
Old Heythorp opened his eyes. That sleek cub, Joe Pillin's son! What a young pup-with his round eyes, and his round cheeks, and his little moustache, his fur coat, his spats, his diamond pin! "How's your father?" he said. "Thanks, rather below par, worryin' about his ships. Suppose you haven't any news for him, sir?" Old Heythorp nodded.
He had left the meeting, therefore, secretly confident that old Heythorp had got something out of this transaction which would enable him to make a substantial proposal to his creditors. So that when the old man had declared that he was going to make none, something had turned sour in his heart, and he had said to himself: "All right, you old rascal!
Ventnor murmured: "Charming! Charming! Bob Pillin said, I think, that Mr. Heythorp was your settlor." One of those little clouds which visit the brows of women who have owed money in their time passed swiftly athwart Mrs. Larne's eyes. For a moment they seemed saying: 'Don't you want to know too much? Then they slid from under it. "Won't you sit down?" she said.
It's very cold, isn't it?" And, with that cautious remark, he passed on down. Alone again, old Heythorp thought: 'By George! What a wavering, quavering, thread paper of a fellow! What misery life must be to a chap like that! He walks in fear he wallows in it. Poor devil! And a curious feeling swelled his heart, of elation, of lightness such as he had not known for years.
But then a clear look into his well-clothed face and red-brown eyes would give the feeling: 'There's something fulvous here; he might be a bit too foxy. A third look brought the thought: 'He's certainly a bully. He was not a large creditor of old Heythorp. With interest on the original, he calculated his claim at three hundred pounds unredeemed shares in that old Ecuador mine.
At dinner, old Heythorp always sat at one end of the rosewood table and his daughter at the other. It was the eminent moment of the day. With napkin tucked high into his waistcoat, he gave himself to the meal with passion. His palate was undimmed, his digestion unimpaired. He could still eat as much as two men, and drink more than one.
I don't suppose I shall be back till the summer, if I ever come back!" He sank his voice: "I shall rely on you. You won't let them, will you?" Old Heythorp lifted his hand, and Joe Pillin put into that swollen shaking paw his pale and spindly fingers. "I wish I had your pluck," he said sadly. "Good-bye, Sylvanus," and turning, he passed out. Old Heythorp thought: 'Poor shaky chap.
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