“You would listen to your father if he were here, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know,” said the boy slowly. Then followed up with an honest, “Yes, I would.”
Gordon caught eagerly, “Well, he sent you to me. Your friend Ruggles has gone off and washed his hands of you, but I can’t.”
Lord Galorey walked across the room briskly and came back to Dan. “First of all, you are not in love with Lily—not a bit of it. You couldn’t be—and what’s more she is not in love with you.”
Blair laughed coolly. “You certainly have got things down to a fine point, Gordon. I’ll be hanged if I understand your game.”
Galorey went bravely on: “Therefore, if neither of you are in love, you understand that there is nothing between you but your money.”
The Englishman got his point out brutally, relieved that the impersonal thing money opened a way for him. He didn’t want to be the bounder and the cad that the mention of the woman would have made him.
The boy drew in an angry breath. “Gosh,” he said, “that cursed money will make me crazy yet! You are not very flattering to me, Gordon, I swear, and Lily wouldn’t thank you for the motives you impute to her.”
“Oh, rot!” returned Gordon more tranquilly. “She hasn’t got a human sentiment in her. She’s a rock with a woman’s face.”
Dan turned his back on his host and walked off into the billiard-room. Galorey promptly followed him, took down a cue and chalked it, and said: