"I am Cornelius Allendyce, attorney for the Forsyth family. And I am—if your father consents—your future guardian."
"Oh, Jimmie'll never consent, never!"
"Why not?" pressed the lawyer. "You say you have no—particular genius to be killed by—money."
"Would it mean that I'd have to give Jimmie up forever?"
"No, my dear. Indeed no. Madame's plan is that you are to go to Gray Manor under my guardianship to live for a year. At the end of that time, if she is satisfied—Why, your father would simply give up any claim—"
"Oh, you don't know Jimmie. He'd never do it, unless—" she paused, her eyes suddenly wet, "unless—I—gave him up. All his life he's made sacrifices and given up things for me—big chances. So now—couldn't I run away with you—and then write and tell him?"
The Cornelius Allendyce who had lived up to that moment of crossing the threshold of this fifth-floor witchery would have scorned such a suggestion as "ridiculous! ridiculous!" But the Cornelius Allendyce of the lavender tie saw mad possibilities in such a step. Take the girl to Gray Manor and settle with Mr. James Forsyth afterwards.
"COULDN'T I RUN AWAY WITH YOU?"