“Remember that questions ruin people sometimes,” he answered, and stepped to the door and turned the handle, as though to show her out. She was agitated and embarrassed now. She felt she had been unjust, and yet she felt that she could not say what ought to be said, if all the rules were right.
“Thank you,” she said simply. “Did you think of this when—when you handed me back the ring?”
“I never had an inspiration in my life. I was born with a plan of campaign.”
“I suppose I ought to—kiss you!” she said in some little confusion.
“It might be too expensive,” he answered, with a curious laugh. Then he added lightly: “This was a fair exchange”—he touched the papers—“but I should like you to bear witness, madam, that I am no robber!” He opened the door. Again there was that curious penetrating note in his voice, and that veiled look. She half hesitated, but in the pause there was a loud voice below and a quick foot on the stairs.
“It’s Billy!” she said sharply, and passed out.
CHAPTER VI. THE WIND AND THE SHORN LAMB
A half-hour later Charley Steele sat in his office alone with Billy Wantage, his brother-in-law, a tall, shapely fellow of twenty-four. Billy had been drinking, his face was flushed, and his whole manner was indolently careless and irresponsible. In spite of this, however, his grey eyes were nervously fixed on Charley, and his voice was shaky as he said, in reply to a question as to his finances: “That’s my own business, Charley.”
Charley took a long swallow from the tumbler of whiskey and soda beside him, and, as he drew some papers towards him, answered quietly: “I must make it mine, Billy, without a doubt.”