"She was your find right enough," Jake admitted. "I always knew that—knew from the first you'd faked up a lie about her. But I hoped—I even believed—that you were doing it for her sake—not your own."
"Well?" flung Saltash. "And if I was?"
"And if you were," said Jake, "it was a thing worth doing—worth sticking to. Bunny is a respectable citizen. He'd have married her—made her happy."
Saltash's mouth twisted. "Bunny had his chance—missed it," he said. "He'll know better next time. I'm not troubling about Bunny. He didn't deserve to win."
"And so you decided to play him a damn trick and cut him out?" said Jake.
Saltash snapped his fingers. "I did my best for him, but I couldn't push him through against his will. Why didn't he come after her when he found she had gone? Didn't he know where to look?"
"Just because he knew," said Jake.
Saltash moved abruptly. "Damnation! You shall have what you've come for. If seeing is believing—then you shall believe—that even Charles Burchester can protect a girl at a pinch from the snares of the virtuous!" He pulled an envelope from an inner pocket, and flung it with a passionate gesture upon the table in front of Jake.
Jake's eyes, red-brown and steady, marked the action and contemplated him thereafter for several silent seconds. Then, at length, very slowly. "Maybe—after all—I don't need to see, my lord," he said. "Maybe—I've made a mistake."
He spoke with the utmost quietness, but his manner had undergone a change. It held a hint of deference. He made no move to touch the envelope upon the table.