"Well, the upshot of it is, I'm here, and I've sent for you to accept the invitation you gave me to shoot ducks with you down in Virginia."
"What invitation?" Stuart asked in surprise.
"Why, the one you used to reproach me for not accepting. Will you go with me now?"
Stuart shook his head.
"I can't go," he said slowly.
He was looking vaguely into the fire in the grate, but Nan's figure was within the line of his vision as she stood silently by the window gazing out on the river. Bivens hadn't said that she must go on that trip, but in a flash of warning intuition he knew it. The danger of such a situation on a yacht would be real and only a fool would rush into it. He wondered if she had played any part in hatching the scheme. He couldn't believe it possible. It had come about naturally, just as if the devil had made it to order.
"Can't go? Why?" the financier asked in tones of genuine distress.
"I've important legal business."
"I'll make good all the damages, if you'll let me."
"But I won't let you."