"Why shouldn't I force you? You are my daughter, ain't you?"
"Yes; but I'm not your slave. I didn't want to be Lady Wyke."
"No. You wish to be Mrs. Edwin Craver, and I'll jolly well see as you don't. Seems to me, Claudia, that it would be only fair for him to leave you his pile."
"Didn't he give you an explanation when you called?"
"No. I told you before that he didn't. Said as he'd come back to the drawing-room to clear things up, and naturally didn't when he pegged out in the study below. Anyhow, it's on the cards as he might have made a will in your favour. And," added the buccaneer, emphatically, "I'm dashed well determined to see the sharp as handles his business."
"Mr. Sandal, in Lincoln's Inn Fields?"
"That's him. Wyke told you as he told me about Sandal when he mentioned that marriage settlements were to be drawn up. I guess I'll look him up to see if the old man did the right thing by you. It's dashed queer as he should have postponed the marriage when he worshipped the blamed ground you walked on, Claudia, my girl."
"It is strange; it was strange," admitted Claudia, pondering. "I can't understand it myself, although I am glad that he acted as he did. Perhaps, knowing that I loved Edwin, he changed his mind about making me his miserable wife."
"Miserable!" jeered the pirate, contemptuously. "Miserable with a title and five thousand a year. Shucks! my girl, you're talking through your hat. Well, I reckon I'll see Sandal, and learn if there's a will in your favour."
"I don't want Sir Hector's money," said Claudia, setting her mouth obstinately. "I don't accept a penny of his money, will or no will."