Page:The Finer Grain (London, Methuen & Co., 1910).djvu/134

122 on Jane's state of mind a happier effect. "I shan't pay it to her."

Her husband could again but stare. "You won't, dear?" he deprecated.

"I don't," she nobly replied. And then as at last for one of her greater cards: "I pay it to him."

"But if he pays it to her—?"

"He doesn't. He explains."

Traffle cast about. "Explains—a—to Mora?"

"Explains to me. He has," she almost defiantly bridled, "perfectly explained."

Her companion smiled at her. "Ah, that then is what took him two hours!" He went on, however, before she could either attenuate or amplify: "It must have taken him that of course to arrange with you—as I understand?—for his monopolising the money?"

She seemed to notify him now that from her high command of the situation she could quite look down on the spiteful sarcastic touch. "We have plenty to arrange. We have plenty to discuss. We shall often—if you want to know—have occasion to meet." After which, "Mora," she quite gloriously brought forth, "hates me worse than ever."

He opened his eyes to their widest. "For settling on her a substantial fortune?"

"For having"—and Jane had positively a cold smile for it—"believed her not respectable."

"Then was she?" Traffle gaped.

It did turn on him the tables!" Mr Puddick