Prev | Current Page 167 | Next

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

"A Millionaire of Yesterday"

Write
as though your interest were merely curiosity. It is the truth I
want to get at, that is all. If the man is innocent I wish him no
harm - only I believe him guilty."
"There was a knock at the door - both turned round. Ernestine's
trim little maidservant was announcing a visitor who followed close
behind.
"Mr. Scarlett Trent."

CHAPTER XXI

Ernestine was a delightful hostess, she loved situations, and her
social tact was illimitable. In a few minutes Trent was seated in
a comfortable and solid chair with a little round table by his side,
drinking tea and eating buttered scones, and if not altogether at
his ease very nearly so. Opposite him was Davenant, dying to escape
yet constrained to be agreeable, and animated too with a keen,
distasteful curiosity to watch Ernestine's methods. And Ernestine
herself chatted all the time, diffused good fellowship and tea - she
made an atmosphere which had a nameless fascination for the man who
had come to middle-age without knowing what a home meant. Davenant
studied him and became thoughtful. He took note of the massive
features, the iron jaw, the eyes as bright as steel, and his
thoughtfulness became anxiety. Ernestine too was strong, but this
man was a rock. What would happen if she carried out her purpose,
fooled, betrayed him, led him perhaps to ruin? Some day her passion
would leap up, she would tell him, they would be face to face,
injured man and taunting woman.


Pages:
155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179