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Updated: June 17, 2025
This man was Saltash's erstwhile trainer, and a very curious bond existed between them. Utterly unlike in every respect, the one as subtle as the other was simple, yet the two men were friends. How it had come about neither of them quite knew. When Saltash had been his employer, Jake Bolton had distrusted and despised him, but by some means this attitude of his had become very materially modified.
When the squire had manoeuvred his car out of the way, he lent his help to pushing Saltash's across the road and up the drive into safety, but he did not utter a single word throughout the performance. "A thousand thanks!" gibed Saltash. "Now for the great reckoning! I say, you will give me a drink, won't you, before you send me to my account? The villain always has a drink first.
He turned, sharply straightening himself, at Saltash's tempestuous entrance, and revealed to the newcomer the deeply-suffused countenance of the hotel-manager. Their recognition was mutual. He flung the boy into a corner and faced his patron, breathing hard, his black eyes still fiercely gleaming. "Ah!
"She isn't christened yet. I'm going to hold a reception on board, and Maud shall perform the ceremony. I'm calling her The Blue Moon unless you can suggest something better." Saltash's restless look went to Maud. "I wanted to call her after you," he said lightly, "But I was afraid Jake might object." "I think The Blue Moon is much more suitable," she answered. "Is she as rare as she sounds?"
"You apparently took it like the plague." "I didn't die of it," said Larpent grimly. "Perhaps the lady did!" suggested Saltash. "No. She didn't die either." Larpent's eyes came slowly upwards to the mocking eyes above them. "For all I know she may be living now," he said. Saltash's grin became a grimace. "Oh, heavens, Larpent! And you've had indigestion ever since? How long ago is it?
And it's my opinion you'd find her considerably easier to please than some less strict in her views too, which is always an advantage to a man of your varying moods." Saltash's laugh had a curious jarring sound as of something broken. "Oh, you think that would be a suitable arrangement, do you? And how long do you think I should stick to her? How long would it be before she ran away?"
"Mainly because you loved her enough to marry her when you could have had her without." Saltash's laugh had the old derisive ring but there was no corresponding gleam of mockery in his eyes as he turned carelessly aside. "What is this thing called love?" he said.
He rode Lord Saltash's ponies, Saltash himself very seldom putting in an appearance. He was wont to declare that he had no time for games, and his frequent absences made it impossible for him to take a very active part in the proceedings of the Club which he had himself inaugurated in an idle hour.
"She will be in to tea, dear," Maud said, and he was obliged to content himself with the prospect of seeing her and acquainting her with Saltash's energetic interest on their behalf after the visitors had gone. He had never felt less in the mood for entertaining casual friends than he felt on that sunny afternoon in September as he lounged in the wide stable-yard and waited for them.
Saltash's smile deepened, became a grimace, and vanished. "I will tell you when you have answered me," he said. "But whatever you say will be used against you, mind that!" "What do you mean?" Dick said. "Never mind what I mean! Just answer me! Answer me now! Would you have married her under those circumstances? Or would you have thrown her over to me?" Dick's eyes blazed. "You damn blackguard!
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