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Updated: June 17, 2025
When he spoke, his tone sounded almost harsh. The girl turned away to dash the tears from her eyes. "What do you think of this folly, Pengarth?" The lawyer looked his best client squarely in the face. "I do not call it folly, Sir Wingrave. I think that Miss Lundy is right." There was a pause. Her eyes were still pleading with him.
She sat up in her chair eagerly. It was what she had prayed for, this but was it for good or evil? Her eyes sought his eagerly. So much depended upon his first few words. Wingrave closed the door behind him. His greetings were laconic as usual. He addressed Lady Ruth. "I find myself obliged," he said, "to take a journey which may possibly be a somewhat protracted one.
"My secretary tells me," Wingrave said curtly, "that you cannot pay me what you owe." "It's more than I possess in the world, sir," Nesbitt answered. "It is not a large amount," Wingrave said. "I do not see how you can carry on business unless you can command such a sum as this." Nesbitt moistened his dry lips with his tongue.
He did not speak another word to Wingrave. "I'm beastly sorry," Aynesworth said to him on the stairs. "I wish I could help you!" "Thank you," Nesbitt answered. "No one can help me. I'm through." Aynesworth returned to the sitting room. Wingrave had lit a cigarette and watched him as he arranged some papers. "Quite a comedy, isn't it?" he remarked grimly.
Lady Ruth spoke to one more man that night of Wingrave and that man was her husband. Their guests had departed, and Lady Ruth, in a marvelous white dressing gown, was lying upon the sofa in her room. "How do you get on with Wingrave?" she asked. "What do you think of him?" Barrington shrugged his shoulders. "What can one think of a man," he answered, "who goes about like an animated mummy?
She caught hold of his hands. "You poor, poor dear!" she cried. "How you must have suffered!" Wingrave had a terrible moment. What he felt he would never have admitted, even to himself. Her eyes were shining with sympathy, and it was so unexpected. He had expected something in the nature of a cold withdrawal; her silence was the only thing he had counted upon. It was a fierce, but short battle.
Wingrave spent half an hour examining his treasures, leaving his attendant astonished. "A millionaire who understands!" he exclaimed softly as he resumed his seat. "Miraculous!" Wingrave passed into the hall, and summoned his major domo. "Show me the ballroom," he ordered, "and the winter garden."
A man's hot breath fell upon his cheek, a hoarse, rasping voice spoke to him out of the black shadows. "Don't touch the lights! Don't touch the lights, I say!" "What folly is this?" Wingrave asked angrily. "Are you mad?" "Not now," came the quick answer. "I have been. It has come to me here, in the darkness. I know why she is angry, I know why she will not speak to me. It is because I failed."
"I accept the challenge," Aynesworth answered lightly. "You are rasher than you imagine," Wingrave declared. "For instance, I have admitted to you, have I not, that I am interested in my fellow creatures, that I want to mix with them and watch them at their daily lives. Let me assure you that that interest is not a benevolent one."
"You will remain here, Aynesworth," he said. "There are some papers at that desk which require sorting." Aynesworth hesitated. He had caught the look on Lady Ruth's face. "If you could excuse me for half an hour, Sir Wingrave," he began. "I cannot spare you at present," Wingrave interrupted. "Kindly remain!" Aynesworth had no alternative but to obey. Wingrave handed a chair to Lady Ruth.
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