“Thank God I have money!” he half whispered. “Millions of it! Millions of it to spend on you! To buy you a thousand Big Houses, if you want them. You knew all along, didn’t you?”
He reached out a nervous hand and lightly touched her.
“Knew what?”
She asked the question, but she was conscious only of the electric nearness of the man.
“Hasn’t Walter told you? He had my card. I thought he had told. When——”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “But you are not——”
“I am,” he smiled grimly. “Does it make me less repulsive?”
“But that name! It—it can’t he. He is——”
“My father is dead, yes. We had the same name.” In rapid sentences he sketched his history. As he talked she moved a step away from him and stood rigid.
“And you bought up ‘Red Jacket’ and presented it to me?” she asked, her face aflame.