Satterthwaite smiled, and his smile was by no means acquiescent.
“I guess you’ll have to wait for that, Mr. Tremaine,” he said, in even tones that had an edge to them. “I’m not going just yet.”
Tremaine glared up at him.
“What?” he cried, incredulously.
“I’m not going,” repeated Satterthwaite. “You don’t realize the situation, my friend. This woman has been living with me for a year as my wife. I do not propose to make her name a public scandal. Officially, you are dead. Well—remain dead!”
Tremaine laughed mockingly.
“And leave you my wife, my child—all this!” He waved his hand round the flat. “Thank you!”
Satterthwaite shrugged his shoulders.
“I’ll buy your property of you at your own valuation. Your will has been proved. The amount of your estate, plus interest, shall be refunded to you. I’ll give you, in addition, any reasonable amount as compensation. You are the victim of circumstances, my friend—but, as a straight man, there’s only one thing for you to do. You can’t ruin this woman’s life!”