“Yes. That was his mission, put in a nutshell.”
“And what did you say?”
“I told him that, after Wednesday, I would ask Doris Martin to marry me, which is the best answer I can give him and all the world.”
“Why ‘after Wednesday’?”
“Because I shall know then the full extent of the annoyance which Ingerman can inflict.”
“Did you give Siddle that reason?”
“Yes.”
Winter frowned.
“You literary gentlemen are all alike,” he said vexedly. “You become such adepts in analyzing human duplicity in your books that you never dream of trying to be wise as a serpent in your own affairs. The author who will split legal hairs by way of brightening his work will sign a contract with a publisher that draws tears from his lawyer when a dispute arises. Why be so candid with a rank outsider, like Siddle?”
“I distrust the man. Doris distrusts him, too.”