“Oh, you are trying to play your part of innocence well, but you cannot deceive me!” she cried with fierce contempt. “Yes, Mr. Blake is the head of it. I just came from his office. There’s not a doubt in the world of his guilt. He has admitted it. Oh——”
“Admitted it?”
“Yes, admitted it! Oh, it was a fine and easy way to make a fortune—to dupe the city into selling at a fraction of its value a business that run privately will pay an immense and ever-growing profit.”
He had stood up and was scratching his bristling hair.
“My God! My God!” he whispered.
She rose.
“And you!” she cried, glaring at him, her voice mounting to a climax of scorn, “You! Don’t walk the room”—he had begun to do so—“but look me in the face. To think how you have attacked my father, maligned him, covered him with dishonour! And for what? To help you carry through a dirty trick to rob the city! Oh, I wish I had the words to tell you——”
But he had begun again to pace the little room, scratching his head, his eyes gleaming behind the heavy glasses.
“Listen to me!” she commanded.