I've heard of your
four-in-hand, and your yacht, and your racers, and that beautiful
house in Park Lane. I tell you that to part with half your fortune
would ruin you, and the Bekwando Company could never be floated."
"I don't anticipate parting with half," Trent said coolly. "Monty
hasn't long to live - and he ought not to be hard to make terms with."
Da Souza beat his hands upon the handles of his deck-chair.
"But why go near him at all? He thinks that you are dead. He has
no idea that you are in England. Why should he know? Why do you
risk ruin like this?"
"There are three reasons," Trent answered. "First, he may find his
way to England and upset the applecart; secondly, I've only the
shreds of a conscience, but I can't leave a man whom I'm robbing of
a fortune in a state of semi-slavery, as I daresay he is, and the
third reason is perhaps the strongest of all; but I'm not going to
tell it you."
Da Souza blinked his little eyes and looked up with a cunning smile.
"Your first reason," he said, "is a poor sort of one. Do you
suppose I don't have him looked after a bit? - no chance of his
getting hack to England, I can tell you. As for the second, he's
only half-witted, and if he was better off he wouldn't know it.
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