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Updated: May 13, 2025
Of this gentleman the world knew but little. That he had made money, and a good deal of it, was certain. His name, Patrick McEachern, suggested Irish parentage, and a slight brogue, noticeable, however, only in moments of excitement, supported this theory. He had arrived in London some four years back, taken rooms at the Albany, and gone into society.
He talked of New York, of the preparations for the theatricals. Molly answered composedly. She was still pale, and a certain listlessness in her manner might have been noticed by a more observant man than Mr. McEachern. Beyond this, there was nothing to show that her heart had been born and killed but a few minutes before.
Spennie inspected the red end of his cigarette closely. "As a matter of fact, it's kind of broken off." The other's exclamation jarred on him. Rotten, having to talk about this sort of thing! "Broken off?" Spennie nodded. "Miss McEachern thought it over, don't you know," he said, "and came to the conclusion that it wasn't good enough." Now that it was said, he felt easier.
McEachern drummed his fingers on the table, and gazed thoughtfully at him. "Is Molly ?" he said at length. "Does Molly ?" "Yes," said Jimmy. McEachern continued his drumming. "Don't think there's been anything underhand about this," said Jimmy. "She absolutely refused to do anything unless you gave your consent.
Oh, yes, I believe they want me to act in these theatricals." "An' I'll tell ye another thing ye'll be wanted to do, and that is to go away from here at wance!" "My dear old sir!" "Ye hear me? At wance." "Couldn't think of it," said Jimmy decidedly. "Not for a moment." "I'll expose ye," stormed McEachern. "I'll expose ye. Will ye deny that ye was a crook in New York?" "What proofs have you?"
And he looked on Jimmy as a man who would use his knowledge. He sat down heavily. Jimmy went on smoking in silence for a while. He saw what was passing in his adversary's mind, and it seemed to him that it would do no harm to let the thing sink in. "Look here, Mr. McEachern," he said, at last, "I wish you could listen quietly to me for a minute or two.
"Molly, my dear," said McEachern huskily, "I to speak to you for a moment." Jimmy took his lordship by the arm. "Come along, Dreever," he said. "You can come and sit out with me. We'll go and smoke on the terrace." They left the room together. "What does the old boy want?" inquired his lordship. "Are you and Miss McEachern ?" "We are," said Jimmy. "By Jove, I say, old chap!
He preceded Jimmy upstairs with the restrained suavity that can be learned in no other school. They parted from Mr. McEachern on the first landing, but Jimmy could still feel those eyes. The policeman's stare had been of the sort that turns corners, goes upstairs, and pierces walls. Nevertheless, it was in an exalted frame of mind that Jimmy dressed for dinner.
Jimmy's evening clothes had reassured her. She did not understand how he came to be there, but evidently there was nothing wrong. She had interrupted a conversation, not a conflict. "I heard the noise and you going downstairs, and I sent the dogs down to help you, father," she said. "And, then, after a little, I came down to see if you were all right." Mr. McEachern was perplexed.
But you're different, somehow. I don't know what I mean. We hardly know each other. But " She stopped again; and still he was dumb. "I feel so alone," she said very quietly, almost to herself. Something seemed to break in Jimmy's head. His brain suddenly cleared. He took a step forward. A huge shadow blackened the white grass. Jimmy wheeled round. It was McEachern.
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