“What the devil am I to do?” said Captain Festival.
“Nothing,” said Forsyth.
“_Nothing?_”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, the man’s mad,” wailed Giles. “I’ve infected him.”
“As you and your wife’s trustee, I say that you can do nothing. You’ve
covenanted not to molest. Your hands are tied. And now. . . .”
He rose to his feet.
“Forsyth,” said Giles, “be human. D’you mean to say I’ve got to sit
still and watch my wife push off with another man?”
“When you came here,” said the lawyer, “seeking a deed of separation, I
warned you both that you were playing with fire. You thanked me
handsomely—and then deliberately instructed me to sow the wind.” He
shrugged his shoulders. “And now I must see this fellow. You sit here
and smoke. I shan’t be long.”
He left the room swiftly.
As he passed into Maple’s room, Katharine rose at him.
“Mr. Forsyth, I’ve bought it. Giles has found somebody else. I never
dreamed it was serious, but I got his letter this morning.”
She thrust the mischievous document into his hand.
Forsyth read it carefully.