“Max will have to pay—me,” he said grimly. “You don’t need to worry for me, Claire. Max can do nothing to hurt—me.”
“But he can. He will. He——”
The girl’s protest died weakly away. She caught her breath. A flash of thought swept through her mind as she gazed into the stern, strong face she had learned at last to love so deeply.
Then the silence was broken. And it was she who was speaking again.
“Ivor,” she said, in low, gentle tones, but in a manner which plainly displayed her resolve. “If anything happens to Max through what I’ve told you, I’ll—I’ll never forgive you. I know what I’m saying—I’m saying it for you. Do you understand, dear? My love for you is so big that I won’t have you fall for a personal animosity. No, no! I won’t stand for it. I want you to remember, too, that but for Max and his Speedway I’d still be doing our rags of laundry down on Lively Creek. Remember that. I’ve beaten the game and I’m going to quit.”
The man raised a hand and passed it over his hair.
“You mean all that, Claire?” he asked.
The girl gazed squarely up into his hot eyes.
“I surely do, dear. There will be no——”