The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York LifeGreen, Anna Katharine
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The Sword of Damocles: A Story of New York Life
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
that was very expressive just then and there, ‘and you let me—’ ‘Oh we
won’t go into that,’ interrupted the less cultivated voice. ‘All you
wanted was a start, to make you the successful man you have since
become. I never worried much about morals, and I don’t worry about them
now, only when you say you won’t do a thing likely to make my fortune,
just because it is not entirely free from reproach, I say, remember what
I know about you, and don’t talk virtue to me.’
“‘I am rightly punished,’ came from the other, in a tone that proved him
to be a man more ready to do a wrong thing than to face the accusation
of it. ‘If I ever did what you suppose, the repentance that has
embittered all my success, and the position in which you have this day
placed me, is surely an ample atonement.’ ‘Will you do what I request?’
inquired the other, giving little heed to this expression of misery, of
which I on the contrary took special heed. ‘No,’ was the energetic
reply; ‘because I am not spotless it is no sign that I will wade into
filth. I will give you money as I have done scores of times before, but
I will lend my hand to no scheme which is likely to throw discredit on
me or mine. Were you not connected to me in the way in which you are—’
‘You would pursue the scheme,’ interrupted the other; ‘it is because you
know that I cannot talk, that you dare repudiate it. Well I will go to
one—’ ‘You shall not,’ came in short quick tones, just such tones as
you used to me, sir, when we first entered this room. ‘You shall leave
the country before you do anything more, or say anything more, to
compromise me or yourself. I may have done wrong in my day, but that is
no reason why I should suffer for it at your hands, tempter of youth,
and deceiver of your own flesh and blood! _You_ shall never bring back
those days to me again; they are buried, and have been stamped out of
sight by many an honest dealing since, and many as I trust before God,
good and sterling action. I have long since begun a new life; a life of
honor, and pure, if successful, dealing. Not only my own happiness, but
that of one who should be considered by you, depends upon my maintaining
that life to the end, unshadowed by unholy remembrances, and unharrassed
by any such proffers as you have presumed to make to me here to-day. If
you want a few thousand dollars to leave the country, say so, but never
again presume to offend my ears, or those of any one else we may know,
with any such words as you have made use of to-day.’ And the spiritless
creature subsided, sir, and said no more to that rich, honored, and
successful man who was so sensitive to even the imputation of guilt.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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