Part 53 (1/2)
His glance dropped, and an unpleasant flush rose to his thin cheeks.
”Well--as it happens, you're better situated than any one to help me to the particular thing I want.”
”The particular thing----?”
”Yes. I understand that Mr. Langhope and Mrs. Ansell are both interested in the new wing for paying patients at Saint Christopher's. I want the position of house-physician there, and I know you can get it for me.”
His tone changed as he spoke, till with the last words it became rough and almost menacing.
Justine felt her colour rise, and her heart began to beat confusedly.
Here was the truth, then: she could no longer be the dupe of her own compa.s.sion. The man knew his power and meant to use it. But at the thought her courage was in arms.
”I'm sorry--but it's impossible,” she said.
”Impossible--why?”
She continued to look at him steadily. ”You said just now that you wished to regain your self-respect. Well, you must regain it before you can ask me--or any one else--to recommend you to a position of trust.”
Wyant half-rose, with an angry murmur. ”My self-respect? What do you mean? _I_ meant that I'd lost courage--through ill-luck----”
”Yes; and your ill-luck has come through your own fault. Till you cure yourself you're not fit to cure others.”
He sank back into his seat, glowering at her under sullen brows; then his expression gradually changed to half-sneering admiration. ”You're a plucky one!” he said.
Justine repressed a movement of disgust. ”I am very sorry for you,” she said gravely. ”I saw this trouble coming on you long ago--and if there is any other way in which I can help you----”
”Thanks,” he returned, still sneering. ”Your sympathy is very precious--there was a time when I would have given my soul for it. But that's over, and I'm here to talk business. You say you saw my trouble coming on--did it ever occur to you that you were the cause of it?”
Justine glanced at him with frank contempt. ”No--for I was not,” she replied.
”That's an easy way out of it. But you took everything from me--first my hope of marrying you; then my chance of a big success in my career; and I was desperate--weak, if you like--and tried to deaden my feelings in order to keep up my pluck.”
Justine rose to her feet with a movement of impatience. ”Every word you say proves how unfit you are to a.s.sume any responsibility--to do anything but try to recover your health. If I can help you to that, I am still willing to do so.”
Wyant rose also, moving a step nearer. ”Well, get me that place, then--I'll see to the rest: I'll keep straight.”
”No--it's impossible.”
”You won't?”
”I can't,” she repeated firmly.
”And you expect to put me off with that answer?”
She hesitated. ”Yes--if there's no other help you'll accept.”
He laughed again--his feeble sneering laugh was disgusting. ”Oh, I don't say that. I'd like to earn my living honestly--funny preference--but if you cut me off from that, I suppose it's only fair to let you make up for it. My wife and child have got to live.”
”You choose a strange way of helping them; but I will do what I can if you will go for a while to some inst.i.tution----”
He broke in furiously. ”Inst.i.tution be d.a.m.ned! You can't shuffle me out of the way like that. I'm all right--good food is what I need. You think I've got morphia in me--why, it's hunger!”