Part 4 (2/2)
Vincent and is staying at a moderately good hotel in London. No. He wants to see Uncle Rad, because he thinks that, if Uncle Rad saw him, blood would cry out in response. It appears that now he has lodged all his papers of identification with a London lawyer--a very good firm, mind you--and he wants Uncle Rad's solicitor to see all the papers and to examine them. That seems fair to me, doesn't it to you?”
”Very fair indeed,” she mused.
”What I mean,” he added with great conviction, ”is that if those papers weren't all right, he wouldn't be so anxious for Uncle Rad's solicitors to have a look at them, would he?”
”No.”
And after awhile she reiterated more emphatically.
”Certainly not.”
”I must say,” he concluded, ”that the whole thing simply beats me.”
”But what does Lord Radclyffe say now?”
”Nothing.”
”How do you mean nothing?”
”Just what I say. He won't talk about the thing. He won't discuss it.
He won't answer any question which I put to him. 'My dear boy, the man is a palpable, impudent impostor, a blackmailer' and that's all I can get out of him.”
”He won't see the man?”
”Won't hear of it.”
”And won't he let his solicitor--Mr. Dobson, isn't it?--meet the other lawyer?”
”He says he wouldn't dream of wasting old Dobson's time.”
”Then what's going to happen?”
”I don't see,” he said, ”what is going to happen.”
”Won't you have a talk about it all with Mr. Dobson, and see what he says?”
”I can't very well do that. Strictly speaking it's none of my business--as yet. I couldn't consult Uncle Rad's lawyers, without Uncle Rad's consent.”
”Another one then.”
He shrugged his shoulders, obviously undecided what to do. He had thought very little about himself or his future in all this: his thoughts had dwelt mostly on Lord Radclyffe--father, mother, brother, sister to them all. Bless him! And then he had thought of her. He looked round him with eyes that scarcely saw, for they really were turned inward to his own simple soul, and to his loving heart. Right up against that very simplicity of soul, a duty stood clear and uncompromising. A duty yet to be performed, the real aim and end of all that he had said so far. But he did not know how best to perform such a duty.
Simple souls--unlike the complex psychological phenomena of modern times--are apt to be selfless, to think more of the feelings of others, than of a.n.a.lyzing their own various sensations; and Luke knew that what he considered his duty would not be quite so obvious to Louisa, and that by fulfilling it he would give her pain.
CHAPTER V
JUST AN OBVIOUS DUTY
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