Part 48 (1/2)
”I am not! I am thinking of myself only. Oh, Eunice--dear Eunice, I have loved you so long and I have been good. All the time you were Sanford's wife, I never so much as called you 'dear'--never gave you even a look that wasn't one of respect for my friend's wife. But now--now, that you are free--I have a right to woo you. It is too soon--yes, I know that--but I will wait--wait as long as you command, if you'll only promise me that I may--sometime--”
”Never! I told you that before--I do not want to be obliged to repeat it! Please understand, once for all, I have no love to give you--”
”Because it is another's! Eunice--tell me you do not care for Elliott--and I won't say another word--now. I'll wait patiently--for a year--two years--as long as you wish--only give me the a.s.surance that you will not marry Mason Elliott.”
”You are impossible! How dare you speak to me of my marriage with anybody, when my husband is only just dead? One word more, Alvord, on the subject, and I shall forbid you my house!”
”All right, my lady! Put on your high and mighty air, if you choose--but before you marry that man--make sure that he did not himself prepare the way for the wedding!”
”What do you mean? Are you accusing Mason of--”
”I make no accusations. But--who did kill Sanford? I know you didn't do it--and Elliott has engaged Stone to prove that you didn't. It is absurd, we all know, to suspect Aunt Abby--I was out of town--who is left but Mason?”
”Hus.h.!.+ I won't listen to, such a suggestion! Mason was at his home that night.”
”Are you sure?”
”Of course, I'm sure! And I don't have to have it proved by a detective either! And now, Alvord Hendricks, you may go! I don't care to talk to anyone who can make such a contemptible accusation against a lifelong friend!”
But before Hendricks left, Elliott himself came in.
He was grave and preoccupied. He bowed a little curtly to Hendricks, and, as he took Eunice's hand, he said, ”May I see you alone? I want to talk over some business matters--and I'm pressed for time.”
”Oh, all right,” Hendricks said, ”I can take a hint. I'm going. How's your sleuth progressing, Elliott? Has Mr. Stone unearthed the murderer yet?”
”Not yet--but soon,” and Elliott essayed to pa.s.s the subject off lightly.
”Very soon?” Hendricks looked at him in a curious manner.
”Very soon, I think.”
”That's interesting. Would it be indiscreet to ask in what direction one must look for the criminal?”
”It would very.” Elliott smiled a little. ”Now run along, Hendricks, that's a good chap. I've important business matters to talk over with Eunice.”
Hendricks went, and Elliott turned to Eunice, with a grave face,
”I've been going over Sanford's private papers,” he said, ”and, Eunice, there's a lot that we want to keep quiet.”
”Was Sanford a bad man?” she asked, her quiet, white face imploring a negative answer.
”Not so very, but, as you know, he had a love of money--a sort of acquisitiveness, that led him into questionable dealings. He loaned money to any one who would give him security--”
”That isn't wrong!”
”Not in itself--but, oh, Eunice, I can't explain it to you--or, at least, I don't want to--but Sanford lent money to men--to his friends--who were in great exigency--who gave their choicest belongings, their treasures as security--and then--he had no leniency--no compa.s.sion for them--”
”Why should he have?”
”Because--well, there is a justice, that is almost criminal. Sanford was a--a Shylock! There, can you understand now?”