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When all was ready and spread in the dining-room this was McVay's suggestion; he said food was unappetising unless it were nicely served Geoffrey said: "Go and see if your sister is awake, and if she is," he added firmly, "I'll give you a few minutes alone with her, so that you can explain the situation fully." McVay nodded and slipped into the library.
"You can't mean to tell me that you are in love with my sister and mean to send me to state's prison?" "I mean exactly that." "Why, she'd never forgive you." Geoffrey thought this so probable that he had no answer to give and presently McVay, who had been grumbling over the matter to himself, asked: "Are you serious, Holland?" "What do you suppose I am?"
"I am about to tell you," said McVay graciously, "I am very seriously worried about my sister. In fact I don't see that there is any getting away from it; you will have to let me go out for an hour or so and get her." "Let you do what?" "Get my sister. She's living in a little hut in your woods, and I am actually afraid she will be snowed up." "It seems highly probable."
I should rather think he was. Why, I could give you instances of his kindness " "You need not trouble," said Geoffrey. McVay smiled at his sister as much as to say: What did I tell you?... so modest, so unassuming. To Geoffrey this sort of thing was unspeakably painful.
"Well, then, I must go and get her." Geoffrey stared at him a moment, and then said: "You must be crazy." "Maybe I am," answered McVay, as if the suggestion were not without an amusing side. "Maybe I am, but that is not the point. Think of a girl, Holland, alone, all night, in such a storm. Now, I put it to you: it is not a position in which you would leave your sister, is it?"
There was a pause the fraction of a second, but momentous, for Geoffrey realised that all his threats to McVay had been idle, that with that touch on his arm he could not shoot. Nevertheless he raised his voice and shouted thunderously: "McVay!" The figure turned, hesitated, saw, perhaps, the gleam of the moon on steel and began to retrace his steps.
Geoffrey coughed. "Well, in a sense," he answered. She rose. "We'll go at once," she said. "Is it far?" "Not very, but it is going to be hard work." He felt more practical. His delight had slipped from him at the realisation of her relationship to McVay.
McVay was left so long at the piano that he finally resorted to a series of discords in order to recall himself to Holland's mind. His existence, if he had only realised the fact, was so completely forgotten that he might have made his escape with a good half hour to spare before either of the others appreciated that the music had ceased.
"Well, I don't want to hear about them," said Geoffrey, who had no intention of being drawn into an intimate interchange. The burglar looked more surprised than angered at this shortness, and only said: "Would you have any objection to my putting a match to that fire?" "No," said Geoffrey, and McVay, with wonderful dexterity, managed to start a cheering blaze with his left hand.
Ordinary standards meant nothing to him too original sees life from another standpoint, entirely. That's me! "Sit down," roared Geoffrey. "Oh, it's nothing, nothing," said McVay, "only I talk better on my feet." "Well, you wouldn't talk as well with a bullet in you." McVay sank back again in his chair. "Yes," he said, "that's me.
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