He looked his brother full in the face as he said it, without the flicker of an eyelid. Lucas's frown deepened. He lay in silence.
After a moment Nap went on. "She may be ready to put up with it for your sake. There's nothing some women won't do for a man they care for, and I take it she has your welfare next her heart. But it's rather much to ask of her. You wouldn't want to run the risk of frightening her away."
Lucas was watching him gravely, his brows still drawn. "Boney," he said slowly at length, "I'd give a good deal to see into your soul."
Nap smiled with a faint return of cynicism. "Who's talking in parables now? Afraid I can't show you what I haven't got."
Lucas passed the rejoinder by. "What makes you conclude that I am more to her than—any other man?"
"Circumstances," said Nap.
"What circumstances?"
"Finding her installed here as one of the family for one. Finding you pulling off the biggest deal of your life for another. And other signs—crowds of them—that I can't explain but that I can't fail to notice when I've got my nose to the trail. You needn't be shy about it. I'm just as pleased as you are."
But Lucas's face did not clear. There followed a very decided pause.
Then, with an effort, very earnestly, he spoke.
"Nap, I don't believe you'll lie to me when I tell you that I'd rather die than be deceived. I know you cared for her once."