“I see no reason in the world why the wedding should be postponed,
Luke.”
The hideous business of coroner’s inquisition was only a day old, and
an accountant’s statement that the dead boy’s affairs were involved
was accepted and no details were asked.
Margaret Leferre could not understand herself; her own calm astonished
her. Had she ever loved this suave man who stood before her,
apparently agreeing, as though Rex were his dearest friend? Sometimes
she was afraid that he would read her loathing of him in her eyes--she
was amazed to find herself telling him now, with the greatest calmness
and in a tone that was sadly sweet, that she saw no reason why the
ceremony should be postponed.
“My poor darling!”
He took her in his arms, and she did not resist. Rather, she raised
her cold lips to his, and hated herself. But the Judas kiss was his,
not hers--that was a tattered comfort.
“There is nothing in the world I would not do to make life a little
more smooth for you,” he was saying. “If money could buy you happiness
I would beggar myself!”
She smiled faintly at this. Here was a man ready to betray his gods.
He had ruined Rex; he had always hated him. She remembered
half-forgotten phrases of his, little irritated comments upon Rex’s
carelessness in financial matters.
He put her at arm’s length and scrutinized her a little sadly. The
pallor and the soft shadows beneath her eyes gave her an unearthly
loveliness.
“Naturally I’ve been worried sick. What a fool I was on the ’phone to
talk of insurances--it was indecent. I just didn’t know what to
say----”
“Luke, are you awfully rich?”
She was always staggering him with questions like that.
“Why--yes, I suppose I am. The bank isn’t doing terribly well--on the
trading side. We are merchants as well, you know--but I have over half
a million private fortune. I thought you knew.”
She smiled faintly.
“I have never asked you. I’m worried about--poverty. We have been
poor--desperately. My father left us nothing, poor dear. It must be
wonderful to be so rich--to have command of money--never to be
bothered about bills, never to feel the frantic urge to go out and
earn something.”
He was regarding her in open-eyed astonishment.
“But I never knew, my dear, how awful! I thought you had an income?”
She shook her head. This time she was not acting.
“If money will give you a sense of security, and of course it will,
I’ll--why, I’d give you control of every cent I have in the world----”
He saw her incredulous smile and was angry with himself, as though in
that gesture of unbelief he detected some reservation, some gesture of
insincerity in his offer.
“Why not? Thousands of men put all their property in their wives’
names. It is a sane thing to do--it keeps a man steady and it will
make us really partners. Wait.”
He was at the ’phone--as eager, as enthusiastic as a boy pursuing some
new and delightful idea.
“Luke, is that your lawyer you’re calling?”
Conscience overwhelmed her with a sudden fear; she realized for the
first time the enormity of her treachery and was terrified.
“Yes, Hilton--it is Luke Maddison speaking… you had the draft of the
antenuptial contract? Well, include everything! You have the list of
my securities?… Yes, all. And the cash in bank--everything. My
interest in Maddison’s… no, I’m not mad!”
“You are!”
She was standing by him now, her face white as death. The words came
tremulously.
“You’re mad, Luke--I didn’t mean it.”
He smiled and kissed her, and there was something in his eyes that
made her shrink back--something that recalled the words of Danton
Morell.
“You are his first obsession at the moment!”
She stood there, her hands gripped, her breath coming quickly and more
quickly, and heard him override the protests which came from the other
end of the wire. Presently he hung up the ’phone and turned to her, a
smile of triumph on his flushed face.
“You are Maddison’s!” he said grandly. “Lock, stock, and barrel,
darling--I am what old Bird calls a child of the poor.”
Even she could not realize that he was speaking prophetically.