It was his turn to laugh. “The truth is, van Tuiver’s been three years posing in a certain rôle, and he can’t turn round now and play a different one for you. I thought it over as I was coming here, and I said to myself, ‘I’ll ask her to see him, but I’ll be damned’—pardon me, but that’s what I said—‘I’ll be damned if I’ll help him to deceive her.’ You see, Miss Castleman—I hope I don’t presume—but I know van Tuiver’s in love with you, and I thought—well—I——”
The genial “Tubby” had turned several shades redder, and now he fell silent. “You may feel quite at ease, Mr. Bates,” smiled Sylvia. “The danger you fear does not exist at all.”
“Not by any possibility, Miss Castleman?”
“Not by any possibility, Mr. Bates.”
“He—he has an enormous lot of money!”
“After all our conversation! There are surely a few things in America which are not for sale.”
“Tubby” drew a deep breath of relief. “I was scared,” he said—“honest.”
“How lovely of you!” said Sylvia. She suddenly felt like a mother to this big fat boy who was said to have no soul.
“I said to myself,” he continued, “‘I’ll tell her the truth about van Tuiver, even if she never forgives me for it.’ You see, Miss Castleman, I see the real man—as you’d never be allowed to, not in a thousand years. And you must take my word and be careful, for van Tuiver’s a man who has never had to do without anything in his whole lifetime. No matter what it’s been that he’s wanted, he’s had it—always, always! I’ve seen one or two times when it looked as if he mightn’t get it—and I can tell you that he’s cunning, and that he persists and persists—he’s a perfect demon when he’s got his mind fixed on something he wants and hasn’t got.”
“Dear me!” said Sylvia. “That is a new view of him!”