"I had a hard time of it, child. It was difficult to play the butler with you about. The times that I fought down the desire to sweep you up in my arms! But I kept an iron grip on that impulse. It would have imperiled you. In some manner it would have leaked out; and your life and mine wouldn't have been worth a button."
THE MYSTIC MILLION
Florence threw her arms around him and held him tightly.
"That poor woman up-stairs!" she murmured. "Can't they let her go?"
"No, dear. She has lost, and losers pay the stakes. That's life. Norton, you knew who I was all the time, didn't you?"
"I did; Mr. Hargreave. There was a scar on the lobe of your ear; and secretly I often wondered at the likeness between you and the real Jones. When I caught a glimpse of that ear, then I knew what the game was. And I'll add that you played it amazingly well. The one flaw in Braine's campaign was his hurry. He started the ball rolling before getting all the phases clearly established in his mind. He was a brave man, anyhow; and more than once he had me where I believed that prayers only were necessary."
"And do you think that you can lead Florence to the million?" asked Hargreave, smiling.
"For one thing, it is in her room, and has always been there. It never was in the chest."