“And you will hand them over on a platter with a fine bow? . . . You are smooth!”
She looked into Brainard’s smiling face with an expression of perplexity.
“But until you can prove your claim, beyond doubt, I shall continue in possession both of the mine and of the theater as guardian of the property. And I shall fight you with all the resources I have until I am convinced that your claim is sound.”
The actress slowly walked to the fire and threw away the cigarette she had been smoking.
“Well, I guess we understand each other,” she said in a less truculent voice.
“I think we do!”
“You are a curious sort of idiot,” she remarked musingly. “I don’t see why we should fight. There’s enough money for two from what the papers say about that mine.”
“There’s a great deal more than enough for two,” Brainard laughed, “in one sense, but only enough for one in another—the right one,” he added meaningly.
The actress watched him closely as he crossed the room to straighten a picture that hung awry on the wall. She swayed gently to and fro in the vulgar pose of the heroine of The Stolen Bonds, looking into the fire. When she glanced up she saw that Brainard was observing her, a slight smile on his lips. He was thinking that she had the temperament that might have made a good actress, but had been hopelessly spoiled by her bringing up and environment.
“Well?” he said. “Are you ready with the proof?”