Victor blushed, even through his ensanguined cheeks, and made an impatient gesture with his hand.
“Besides,” added the lawyer coolly, “she has been here to examine the papers at thy request, and returned them of yesterday.”
Victor gasped: “And-you-you-gave them to her?”
“Of course!”
“All? Even the application and the signature?”
“Certainly,—you sent her.”
“Sent her? The devil's own daughter?” shrieked Garcia. “No! A hundred million times, no! Quick, before it is too late. Give to me the papers.”
Mr. Wood reproduced the file. Garcia ran over it with trembling fingers until at last he clutched the fateful document. Not content with opening it and glancing at its text and signature, he took it to the window.
“It is the same,” he muttered with a sigh of relief.
“Of course it is,” said Mr. Wood sharply. “The papers are all there. You're a fool, Victor Garcia!”