Adventure stories; Crime -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
“Listen, Mary,--the sensible thing to do is for us all to cash in on
this Morton affair, before it breaks. I’ve said most of this before,
but I’ve got to say it again. Let me discover the secret marriage
between you and Jack; I’ll soak Mr. Morton hard for a detective bill,
and give you a half of what he pays. And by playing the thing this
way, I’ll keep solid with Mr. Morton and will be in a position where
I can milk him for a long time to come. And then, of course, you’ll
make him pay big for a divorce-- Morton will want to hush the matter
up as far as he can, and he’ll want to keep details out of court. And
since I’ll be representing Mr. Morton, I can put you wise to the very
limit he’ll pay. What you get there will be all your own; I’ll get
mine out of handling Mr. Morton’s end. And that business all settled,
and you with the name of Mrs. Jack Morton--why, there’s nothing big we
couldn’t put across as team-mates! And everything safe--and everything
big! And a little later, if you wanted it, I could, by watching chances
and playing the cards right, help you make a marriage that would be a
headliner in regard to wealth and respectability and position. Don’t
you see it all!”
She saw it, and it was a dazzling vision of its own kind. Moreover, she
knew this shrewd little lawyer could bring it all to pass. And among
other things his plan offered was the definite and immediate chance
to strike vengefully at Mr. Morton, who an hour before had so coolly
rebuffed her when, swayed by unaccustomed emotion, she had made him the
proposal to devote herself to Jack.
At length she spoke. “That was another good speech, Peter,” she said
quietly, “but you didn’t come here merely to deliver that speech
either. Just what is the big thing that’s in your mind?”
“Why, that you should drop your present game, instanter, and switch to
something worth while.”
“That’s not what brought you here between two and three o’clock in the
morning,” she insisted steadily.
He shifted slightly. “It’s like this, Mary,” he said abruptly, changing
from his persuasive tone--“you and I went into this thing together,
and I hope we’re going to stick it out together along the lines I’ve
just suggested. But matters took such a twist with to-night’s events
that I had to know definitely, at once, whether you were going to work
along with me.”
“And that’s the question you really want answered?”
“It is. And I’m hoping your answer is going to be ‘yes.’”
“I do not know what I am going to do,” she said quietly, her dark eyes
fixed upon his large blue ones. “But whatever I do, I shall do alone
and exactly as I please.”
He slowly wet his full, loose lips. “Is that final?”
“It is.”
“You mean that you are going to leave me out of it.”
“I am not going to think of you one way or the other.” She stood up.
“If that is all you came for, I suggest you now say good-night.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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