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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"A Millionaire of Yesterday"

Cuthbert from further
argument.
"It may be a wild-goose chase," she said. "It may not. At any
rate nothing will alter my purpose. Justice sleeps sometimes for
very many years, but I have an idea that Mr. Scarlett Trent may yet
have to face a day of settlement."
* * * * *
She walked through the crowded streets homewards, her nerves
tingling and her pulses throbbing with excitement. She was
conscious of having somehow ridded herself of a load of uncertainty
and anxiety. She was committed now at any rate to a definite
course. There had been moments of indecision - moments in which
she had been inclined to revert to her first impressions of the man,
which, before she had heard Davenant's story, had been favourable
enough. That was all over now. That pitifully tragic figure - the
man who died with a tardy fortune in his hands, an outcast in a far
off country - had stirred in her heart a passionate sympathy - reason
even gave way before it. She declared war against Mr. Scarlett
Trent.

CHAPTER XX

Ernestine walked from Lincoln's Inn to the office of the Hour, where
she stayed until nearly four. Then, having finished her day's work,
she made her way homewards. Davenant was waiting for her in her
rooms.


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