“I am afraid I agree with Mr. Rodney. Dan is as secret as an oyster, and he hasn’t shown himself at all well-disposed. He wouldn’t make a statement for my benefit. As to the question of another woman, I have no doubt that there is one, but my feeling is that Dan would prefer to have a pretext for not marrying her.”
“That is exactly my view,” said Rodney. “Purcell is the sort of man who will get as much as he can and give as little in exchange.”
“I don’t deny that,” said Varney, “but I still think that it would be worth trying. If nothing came of it we should be no worse off.”
“Exactly,” agreed Thorndyke. “It is quite a simple proceeding. It commits us to nothing and it is very little trouble; and if, by any chance it succeeded, see how it would simplify matters. In place of a crowd of witnesses collected at immense trouble and cost, you would have a letter which could be put in evidence and which would settle the whole case in a few minutes.”
Rodney shrugged his shoulders and secretly marvelled how Thorndyke had got his great reputation.
“There is no answering a determined optimist,” said he. “Of course Purcell may rise to your bait. He may even volunteer to go into the witness-box and make a full confession and offer to pay our costs. But I don’t think he will.”
“Neither do I,” said Thorndyke. “But it is bad practice to reject a plan because you think it probably will not succeed, when it is possible and easy to give it a trial. Have you any objection to our carrying out Mr. Varney’s suggestion?”
“I have no objection to your carrying it out,” replied Rodney, “and I don’t suppose Mrs. Purcell has; but I don’t feel inclined to act on it myself.”
Thorndyke looked interrogatively at Margaret. “What do you say, Mrs. Purcell?” he asked.
“I am entirely in your hands,” she replied. “It is very good of you to take so much trouble, but I fear you will have your trouble for nothing.”