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Updated: June 11, 2025
Maxwell stopped, with an air of discomfiture and disappointment. "You wouldn't like me to use that point, then?" "What a simpleton! Of course I should! I shouldn't care if all the world knew it." "Ah, well, we won't give it to Pinney, anyway; but I really think it could be done without involving our own facts.
"At Rimouski, I presume?" said Pinney. "No," said Northwick, briefly. Over the simple dinner, which Pinney praised for the delicacy of the local lamb, and Northwick ate of so sparingly, Northwick talked more freely. He told Pinney all about his flight, and his winter journey up toward the northern verge of the civilized world.
Pinney handed him the neat leather-covered flask his wife had reproached him for buying when they came away from home; she said he could not afford it; but he was glad he had got it, now, and he unscrewed the stopple with pride in handing it to Northwick. "You look sick." "I haven't been very well," Northwick admitted, and he touched the bottle with his lips.
They were ready for any event; but Matt felt that he ought to know there was no hope of his escaping a trial if he returned, and that he ought to be left perfectly free to decide. Adeline would be laid beside her mother. The old man broke into a feeble whimper as Mrs. Pinney read him the last words. Pinney, walking softly up and down with the baby in his arms, whimpered too.
How many per cent of that am I going to believe?" he asked, and he drew her to him again in a rapture with her pretty looks, and the love he saw in them. Pinney was a handsome little fellow himself, with a gay give-and-take air that had always served him well with women, and that, as his wife often told him, had made her determine to have him the first time she saw him.
"Lorenzo Pinney!" screamed his wife. "Don't you think of such a wicked thing! So dishonorable!" "How wicked? How dishonorable?" demanded Pinney. "I'm ashamed to have to tell you, if you don't see; and I won't. But if you go as a detective, go as a detective; and if you go as their friend, to help them and serve them, then go that way. But don't you try to carry water on both shoulders.
"I can't, man. Don't ask me!" groaned Finney. "It's better that you should read it." Mrs. Finney's face expressed an agony of compassion as, still half clutching it, she held out a letter to Lansing. "John, oh, John," she sobbed; "remember, she's not to blame! She doesn't know." The letter, was in his wife's handwriting, addressed to Mrs. Pinney, and read as follows:
But if I was in your place, I know what I should do." Northwick did not ask him what it was he would do. He fell into a deep silence which it seemed to Pinney he would never break; and his face became such a blank that all Pinney's subtlety was at fault. It is doubtful, indeed, if there was anything definite or directed in the mute misery of Northwick's soul.
"I make you perfectly free of it, as far as I'm concerned; and it can't hurt Pinney, even if he ought to be spared. He wouldn't spare you." "I don't know," said Matt, "that I could justify myself in hurting him on that ground. I shall be careful about him. I don't at all know that I shall want to use it; but it has just struck me that perhaps But I don't know!
Sometimes Pinney, as he talked on, thought the man was dead; and there were times when he invented questions that Northwick had to answer yes or no, before he felt sure that he was still alive; his breath went and came so softly Pinney could not hear it. Pinney told him all about his courtship and married life, and what a prize he had drawn in Mrs. Pinney.
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