Martin made no reply. Not once during the conversation did his eyes light with anger; not for a moment was the underlying shadow of sadness gone from them. He was holding a strong rein upon himself. He was judging himself now; he was passing judgment upon no other man.
Hume, glancing at him quickly, curiously, felt that he knew what Leland was thinking. Then his mind came back abruptly to his own interests.
"So you don't know what Conway is going to do?"
"I have advised him to sell to Shandon and to give Shandon the time he wants to make his payments."
"And you will sell to Shandon too?"
"I think not. My holdings are too heavy for him to swing. No, I am going to give them away."
"Not to him!"
"No, not to him. He wouldn't accept them. To my daughter—for her wedding present. And I pray God that they will bring her more happiness than they have brought me."
Hume's big fist came smashing down upon the table.
"By God, you've got to buy me out! I'm ruined, ruined, I tell you, if you and Conway drop me now."