CHAPTER XVIII
A PRUDENT DECISION
It had been dark some time and the night was raw, but Jim Crestwick strolled up and down the drive to Marple’s house, thinking unusually hard. In the first place, part at least of the folly of his conduct during the last year or two had been plainly brought home to him, and the realization was bitter. It was galling to discover that while he had regarded himself as a man of the world he had been systematically victimized by the men who had encouraged him in the delusion. He felt very sore as he remembered how much he owed Batley, but this troubled him less than the downright abhorrence of Gladwyne which had suddenly possessed him. He had looked up to the latter as a model and had tried to copy his manners; and it was chiefly because Batley was a friend of Gladwyne’s that he had paid toll to him. For he had felt that whatever the man he admired was willing to countenance must be the correct thing. Now he saw Gladwyne as he really was—a betrayer of those who trusted him, a counterfeit of an honorable type, one who had by the merest chance escaped from crime.
In the second place, he was concerned about Bella. She had obviously been attracted by Gladwyne, and it was his duty to warn her. Whether the warning was altogether necessary he could not tell—he had watched her face that morning—and Bella sometimes resented advice. When she did so, she had an exasperating trick of putting him in the wrong; but he meant to speak to her as plainly as appeared desirable. He had another duty—to Lisle; but he was inclined to think that on the whole he had better not saddle himself with it. His self-confidence had been rudely shaken and he recognized the possibility of his making things worse. Moreover, he had cultivated the pride of caste, and having with some difficulty obtained an entry to the circle in which Gladwyne moved, he felt it incumbent on him to guard the honor of all who belonged to it.
Presently Bella came out, as he had anticipated, and joined him.
“You have been very quiet since this morning,” she began. “I saw that you meant to slip away as soon as you could.”
“Yes,” he admitted; “I’ve had something to think about—I’ve been a fool, Bella; the commonest, most easily gulled kind of imbecile!”
He had expected her to remind him that she had more than once tried to convince him of this, but she failed to do so. Instead, she answered with a touch of the candor that sometimes characterized her.
“You’re not the only one.”