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Updated: June 7, 2025
Critic and analyst as ever, Godwin could not be content to see in it the simple benefaction of a woman who died loving him. Was it not rather the last subtle device of jealousy? Marcella knew that the legacy would be a temptation he could scarcely resist and knew at the same time that, if he accepted it, he practically renounced his hope of marrying Sidwell Warricombe.
"I fear," he said, "I fail to grasp your meaning. You think " Florence met the speaker's look steadily. "I don't think," she said, "I know. You painted the picture, Mr. Sidwell. That man there on the mountain-side is you!" Her companion hesitated. His face darkened; his lips opened to speak and closed again. The girl continued watching him with steady look.
The visitor's hand, fingers outspread, returned to his knee. "Thank you. I have one more question to ask. Do you intend, without trying to prevent it, to let your daughter throw away her every chance of future happiness? Are you, Florence's father, going to let her marry Sidwell?" With one motion Scotty was on his feet. The eyes behind the thick lenses fairly flashed.
Hough hesitated in a reluctance that was not feigned. He felt that discretion was the better part of valor, and that it would be well to escape while he could, even at the price of discourtesy. "Really," he said, "I only dropped in to say hello. "Nonsense!" interrupted Sidwell. "You must think I'm as innocent as a new-born lamb. Come over here and sit down." Hough hesitated, but yielded.
These uncertainties, these frequent reversions to a state of mind which at other times he seemed to have long outgrown, were a singular feature of his relations with Sidwell. Could such experiences consist with genuine love? Never had he felt more willing to answer the question with a negative.
Sidwell stiffened involuntarily. "Your prediction sounds a bit strong from one who is himself a benedict," he returned coldly. "Upon what, if you please, do you base your opinion?" Hough fidgeted in his chair. "You want me to be frank, brutally frank, once more?" "Anything you wish. I'd like to know why you spoke as you did." "The reason, then, is this.
If you will trust me, however, I promise that all my energies shall be devoted to the interests of this country." Nigel held out his hand. "It is a pact," he decided. "Before you leave, I will give you the whole of my uncle's brief correspondence with Sidwell. You may be able to gather from it what he was after. Sidwell, you remember, was stabbed in a café in the slums of Petrograd."
'She knew, then, was Sylvia's last inquiry, 'of the relations between you and Mr. Peak? 'I am not sure but I think so. Yes, I think she must have known. 'From Mr. Peak himself, then? Sidwell was agitated. 'Yes I think so. But what does that matter? The other allowed her face to betray perplexity. 'So much for the past, she said at length. 'And now?
Baker," he said, "you do not doubt that I love Florence that I wish nothing but her good?" Scotty nodded a reluctant assent. "No; I don't doubt you, Ben," he said. The thin face of the younger man leaned forward and grew more intense. "You know what Sidwell is what the result will be if Florence marries him?" Scotty's head dropped into his hands. He knew what was coming.
Under the circumstances, a strategist might have employed others to gather surreptitiously the information desired; but such was not the nature of Benjamin Blair. One thing he had learned in dealing with his fellows, which was that the most effective way to secure the thing one wished was to go direct to the man who had it to give. In this case Sidwell was the man.
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