The MalefactorOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Malefactor
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories; Fiction
“It is most opportune,” Barrington declared. “I wanted particularly to
do something for the Hendersons. He seems very well disposed, and his
influence means everything just now. Really, Ruth, I believe we are
going to pull through after all.”
She smiled a little wearily.
“Do you think so, Lumley?”
“I am sure of it, Ruth,” he answered. “I only wish I could see you a
little more cheerful. Surely you can’t still--be afraid of Wingrave,” he
added, glancing uneasily across the table.
She looked him in the eyes.
“That is exactly what I am,” she answered. “I am afraid of him. I have
always been afraid. Nothing has happened to change him. He came back to
have his revenge. He will have it.”
Lumley Barrington, for once, felt himself superior to his clever wife.
He smiled upon her reassuringly.
“My dear Ruth,” he said, “if only you would reflect for a few moments,
I feel sure you would realize the absurdity of such fancies. We did
Wingrave a service in introducing him to society here, and I am sure
that he appreciated it. If he wished for our ruin, why did he lend us
eight thousand pounds on no security? Why does he lend us his yacht to
entertain our friends? Why did he give me that information which enabled
me to make the only money I ever did make on the Stock Exchange?”
She smiled contemptuously.
“You do not understand a man like Wingrave,” she declared. “Nothing that
he has done is inconsistent with my point of view. He gave you a safe
tip, knowing very well that when you had won a little, you would try
again on your own account and lose--which you did. He lent us the money
to become our creditor; and he lends us the yacht to give another handle
to the people who are saying already that he occupies the position
in our family which is more fully recognized on the other side of the
Channel!”
“You are talking rubbish,” he declared vehemently. “No one would dare to
say such a thing of you--of my wife!”
She laughed unmercifully.
“If you were not my husband,” she said cruelly, “you would have heard
it before now. I have been careful all my life--more careful than most
women, but I can hear the whisperings already. There are more ways to
ruin than one, Lumley.”
“We will refuse the yacht,” Barrington said sullenly, “and I will go to
the Jews for that eight thousand pounds.”
“We will do nothing of the sort,” Lady Ruth answered. “I am not going
to be a laughing stock for Emily and her friends if I can help it.
We’ll play the game through now! Only--it is best for you to know the
risks...”
Wingrave’s second letter was to Juliet. She found it on her table one
afternoon when she came back from her painting class. She tore it open
eagerly enough, but her face clouded over as she read.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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