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Updated: June 29, 2025
Olive had been markedly listless, heavy-eyed and abstracted during the course of the dinner, a point which Larssen had noted with some puzzlement. His mind had worked over the reasons for it without arriving at any definite conclusion. But now, at this unexpected announcement, her eyes lighted up greedily. "For me!" she exclaimed. "That's more than I expected from Clifford."
"Then write to Matheson what your heart will dictate to you," said Larssen gently. Presently he resumed: "Where is he now?" "At Nîmes." "Ah, yes the trial." "It should be finished to-day." "Then Matheson will probably be returning to London to see me. There's no need for him to hurry back. He could board the 'Starlight' at Boulogne or any other port he might prefer."
To travel down to Florida would cost money, and he did not feel justified in paying for the journey out of the expenses allowance given him by Larssen. To explain by letter was too difficult. After some thought he decided to take a return ticket by day coach, and to pay for it out of his own pocket. Golden Beach, where the school was situated, was a fashionable winter resort on the Florida coast.
It was a mistake. We've both made mistakes, he and I. The unfortunate part is that the consequences don't fall on us. They fall on Mrs Matheson and yourself. You note that I place Mrs Matheson before yourself? That's deliberate." Again he paused, but Elaine did not make any comment. She guessed now what Larssen had come to say to her, and a shiver of fear went through her.
Larssen had no further use for him at present, and Olive had no sympathy to waste on a beaten man. He had been sitting brokenly in a chair at the desk where he had signed away his independence, gazing into a new-spilt ink-blot on the polished surface of the desk, seeing visions in its glistening, blue-black pool.
Olive put in a word: "I dislike all those niggling formalities." "Business is business," quoted her father sententiously. "Besides, Clifford will be back before the prospectus goes to the public." "Probably," agreed Larssen. "But in case he is not back in time, we're to go ahead just as if he were here. That's what he told me before he left Paris. Didn't he write you to that effect, Sir Francis?"
Her features were now heavy and listless, and there were dark shadows under the eyes. Both men rose to offer a seat. "I came along to catch Mr Rivière before he left you," she explained to Larssen, and turned with a set smile towards the visitor. For a moment or two she stared at Matheson in amazement. Then: "Why, it's Clifford! What have you been doing to yourself?
I want to know who told you that Clifford Matheson, my half-brother, is to head the Board of Hudson Bay Transport, Ltd." "I have it straight from the stable from Lars Larssen." Rivière's face did not move a muscle he was still smiling pleasantly. "Larssen and I are old pals," continued Martin briskly.
I was fascinated and repelled at the one time. So that is the man who " "Who wants to drag you into a divorce court." Elaine sat up rigid with shock. "A divorce court! How why? What possible ?" "Larssen doesn't stick at possibilities." "I realise that, but " "I'll not let him drag you into court. Be quite sure in your mind of that. But listen, Elaine!" Her name came from him unconsciously.
"In town I could take you to my bankers, but to-night it's impossible. Martin, you've got to believe me! Hear what those two men have to say!" The journalist considered the matter in sober silence. "An advertisement like this is sheer libel," he answered presently. "Larssen could rook you for goodness knows what damages if you got it published." "I know. That goes."
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