“Clever work, Bob,” Loveman said pleasantly. “Now that it’s all finished up, I suppose you are satisfied with the game you’ve played.”
“I’ll not be satisfied till I really land you, Loveman.”
“No?” said Loveman, very softly. “Perhaps—who knows?—the game may really not all be finished up—for human nature, you know, is human nature—and perhaps there are several other cards to be played—several extremely good cards.”
With that the little lawyer moved away. Patiently, with heaviness upon his heart, Clifford stood motionless on guard in the doorway waiting for Mary to appear with her charge ... wondering now over Loveman’s soft remark about cards yet to be played ... now wondering about that gray, drawn look with which Mary had followed him out....
CHAPTER XXVII
JACK MAKES A RESOLUTION
For an hour—two hours—Clifford continued to stand in the shadowy doorway near the entrance of the Midnight Café. Presently Mary came down, Jack with her. The light drug which Clifford had slipped into his drink to render him more manageable and prevent his going with his carousing companions, had spent its power. Jack was now sober, though plainly his nerves were still badly shaken.
Clifford stepped out of his doorway. He wanted Mary to see him, that she might have the reassurance which would come of her knowing that he was keeping his promise to watch over her and Jack—to ward off any possible attempt of Loveman and Bradley—until she got Jack safely in the apartment at the Mordona, which, months since, they had occupied as “Mr. and Mrs. Grayson” and which they were again to occupy under that name. Mary saw him; but Jack also saw him, which last Clifford had not wished for.
“Hello, there, Bob,—come here,” Jack called. Clifford crossed to him, and the young man gripped his hand in a hand that twitched. “Bob, old man,” he went on, his unsteady voice full of feeling, “I want to thank you. You did me a great turn—and, old man, I’m never going to forget it. Mary told me how you got rid of dad, and then sent for her to take me in charge. It was great.”
Clifford did not look at Mary, but he was conscious of her pale, set face. He fell in with the apocryphal version Mary apparently had given Jack of what had happened while he had lain in a stupor.
“That’s all right, Jack,” Clifford replied.