“As to that,” said Stocmar, gravely, “the man who neither cares for his own life or character can always do damage to those of another; there is no disputing about that.”
“Well, I am exactly such a man, and she shall know it.” Not a word was spoken for several minutes, and then Paten resumed, but in a calmer and more deliberate tone, “Trover has told me everything. I see her whole scheme. She meant to marry that old Baronet, and has been endeavoring, by speculating in the share-market, to get some thousands together; now, as the crash has smashed the money part of the scheme, the chances are it will have also upset the marriage. Is not that likely?”
“That is more than I can guess,” said Stocmar, doubtingly.
“You can guess it, just as I can,” said Paten, half angrily. “She's not the woman to link her fortune with a ruined man. Can't you guess that?” Stocmar nodded, and Paten went on: “Now, I mean to stand to win on either event,—that's my book.”
“I don't understand you, Paul.”
“Call me Ludlow, confound you,” said Paten, passionately, “or that infernal name will slip out some day unawares. What I would say is, that, if she wishes to be 'My Lady,' she must buy me off first. If she 'll consent to become my wife,—that is the other alternative.”
“She'll never do that,” said Stocmar, gravely.
“How do you know,—did she tell you so?”
“Certainly not.”
“You only know it, then, from your intimate acquaintance with her sentiments,” said he, sneeringly.