A new purpose had come into Clifford’s life since that night at Le Minuit. Rather it was his old purpose, but now more grimly determined on, and unmixed and undeterred by other considerations. He was out to get Loveman, and Bradley, and their fellows—and he was also out to protect Mary. And all this was now nothing more than a purely professional job, since matters were as they were with Jack and Mary.
Clifford’s long-prevailing reason for holding back on Loveman and the others—that Mary might be free to work out her plan, and that Life might have the chance to test her—no longer had any force with him, now that Mary had exposed herself and renounced her ambition, now that she had nothing at stake. His determination to get Loveman was intensified by his certainty that Loveman was trying to get Mary: Loveman’s soft-spoken, cryptic remark in front of Le Minuit, about the game perhaps not being finished, and there perhaps being other cards to play, made him sure that this great spinner of webs had not ceased from spinning. Clifford, putting himself in Loveman’s place, realized that the little lawyer had motives for the most desperate action. Loveman had lost Mary out of his schemes forever; he realized that she would no longer protect him in order to protect herself; he hated her for having blocked him; and he feared her, feared her daily, for she had it in her power to secure his disbarment, to send him to prison.
There was no doubt in Clifford’s mind that Loveman was planning—that Loveman would act. And he believed that Loveman, in daily fear, would act quickly. But what would Loveman do?
There was but one way to learn, and that was to keep Loveman under constant and discreet surveillance; and this now became the all-consuming routine of Clifford’s life, in which he was aided by Lieutenant Jimmie Kelly and special men supplied him by Commissioner Thorne, and concerning which he took counsel with Uncle George. But days, weeks, went by; nothing happened. As far as the closest scrutiny could reveal, Loveman was going about his daily round of legal business and his nightly round of pleasures, and in no way was he concerning himself about Mary Regan. And likewise Bradley seemed to be confining himself to his own affairs.
This behavior puzzled Clifford. Why were they holding back? But behind this seeming quiet, Clifford knew that things were brewing—and big things. But as to just what they might be, he could get no clue. However, he kept doggedly at his secret watch. There would come a time when they would doubtless act, and he must be ready and on the spot to take action when the moment came.
One day when Clifford was talking the situation over with Commissioner Thorne, the Commissioner remarked: “They’re undoubtedly up to something—and you’ll get them in the end, Clifford.” And then: “I hear that young Jack Morton has braced up?”
“Yes.”
“And I understand that it’s the influence of his wife that’s keeping him in the strait and narrow.”
“Yes.”
There was no further reference to Mary Regan. But each understood what was in the other’s mind: Thorne knew of Clifford’s regard for Mary Regan, and Clifford knew that Thorne knew it.