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Updated: June 24, 2025
Returning to town I feverishly collected them all; I picked out each in its order and held it up to the light. This gave me a maddening month, in the course of which several things took place. One of these, the last, I may as well immediately mention, was that I acted on Vereker's advice: I renounced my ridiculous attempt. I could really make nothing of the business; it proved a dead loss.
"Nobody sees anything!" she cheerfully announced; to which I replied that I had often thought so too, but had somehow taken the thought for a proof on my own part of a tremendous eye. I didn't tell her the article was mine; and I observed that Lady Jane, occupied at the end of the table, had not caught Vereker's words.
He at least was, in Vereker's words, a little demon of subtlety. We had begun by disputing, but I soon saw that without my stirring a finger his infatuation would have its bad hours. He would bound off on false scents as I had done he would clap his hands over new lights and see them blown out by the wind of the turned page.
Fortunately she does not know as yet that, by the will of her late Uncle Gregory, the ironmaster, two million pounds are settled upon the man who wins her hand. With two million pounds I could pay back my betting losses and prevent myself from being turned out of the Constitutional Club. And now to put the marked ace of spades in young Vereker's coat-tail pocket. Ha!"
She was moved, as I could see, to such depths that she must mean the great thing. "Vereker's idea?" "His general intention. George has cabled from Bombay." She had the missive open there; it was emphatic, but it was brief. "Eureka. Immense." That was all he had saved the money of the signature. I shared her emotion, but I was disappointed. "He doesn't say what it is." "How could he in a telegram?
He lacked all the same the light hand with which Corvick had gilded the gingerbread he laid on the tinsel in splotches. Six months later appeared "The Right of Way," the last chance, though we didn't know it, that we were to have to redeem ourselves. Written wholly during Vereker's absence, the book had been heralded, in a hundred paragraphs, by the usual ineptitudes.
He looked at me like a dim phrenological bust. "The information ?" "Vereker's secret, my dear man the general intention of his books: the string the pearls were strung on, the buried treasure, the figure in the carpet." He began to flush the numbers on his bumps to come out. "Vereker's books had a general intention?" I stared in my turn. "You don't mean to say you don't know it?"
This scruple led me a dance; kept me out of Lady Jane's house, made me even decline, when in spite of my bad manners she was a second time so good as to make me a sign, an invitation to her beautiful seat. I once became aware of her under Vereker's escort at a concert, and was sure I was seen by them, but I slipped out without being caught.
I had of course none the less to recollect that his wife might have imposed her conditions and exactions. I had above all to remind myself that with Vereker's death the major incentive dropped. He was still there to be honoured by what might be done he was no longer there to give it his sanction. Who alas but he had the authority?
To this he replied that if we had had Shakespeare's own word for his being cryptic he would at once have accepted it. The case there was altogether different we had nothing but the word of Mr. Snooks. I returned that I was stupefied to see him attach such importance even to the word of Mr. Vereker. He wanted thereupon to know if I treated Mr. Vereker's word as a lie.
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