drew me down to her, and looked at me
out of her deep eyes. “What does she mean when she says you knew about Stevie?”
I
pressed her hand without answering. All my mind was
concentrated on the effort of silencing my antagonist and getting her out of
the room. Mrs. Brown leaned in the window-frame and looked down on us. I could
see that she was dismayed at what she had said, and yet exultant; and my business
was to work on the dismay before the exultation mastered it. But Mrs. Glenn
still held me down: her eyes seemed to be forcing their gaze into me. “Is it
true?” she asked almost inaudibly.
“True?”
Mrs. Brown burst out. “Ask him to swear to you it’s not true—see what he looks
like then! He was in the conspiracy, you old simpleton.”
Mrs.
Glenn’s head straightened itself again on her weak neck: her face wore a
singular majesty. “You were my friend—” she appealed to me.
“I’ve
always been your friend.”
“Then
I don’t have to believe her.”
Mrs.
Brown seemed to have been gathering herself up for a last onslaught. She saw
that I was afraid to try to force her from the room, and the discovery gave her
a sense of hazy triumph, as if all that was left to her was to defy me. “Tell
her I’m lying— why don’t you tell her I’m lying?” she
taunted me.
I
knelt down by my old friend and put my arm about her. “Will you come away with
me now—at once? I’ll take you wherever you want to go … I’ll look after you …
I’ll always look after you.”
Mrs.
Glenn’s eyes grew wider. She seemed to weigh my words till their sense
penetrated her; then she said, in the same low voice: “It is true, then?”
“Come
away with me; come away with me,” I repeated.
I
felt her trying to rise; but her feet failed under her and she sank back. “Yes,
take me away from her,” she said.
Mrs.
Brown laughed. “Oh, that’s it, is it? ‘Come away from that bad woman, and I’ll
explain everything, and make it all right’ … Why don’t you adopt him instead of Steve? I daresay that’s
what he’s been after all the time. That’s the reason he was so determined we
shouldn’t have your money …” She drew back, and pointed to the door. “You can
go with him—who’s to prevent you? I couldn’t if I wanted to. I see now it’s for
him we’ve been nursing your precious millions … Well, go with him, and he’ll
tell you the whole story …”A strange secretive smile stole over her face. “All
except one bit … there’s one bit he doesn’t know; but you’re going to know it now.”
She
stepped nearer, and I held up my hand; but she hurried on, her eyes on Mrs.
Glenn. “What he doesn’t know is why we fixed the thing up. Steve wasn’t my
adopted son any more than he was your real one. Adopted son, indeed! How old do
you suppose I am? He was my lover. There—do you understand? My Lover! That’s
why we faked up that ridiculous adoption story, and all the rest of it—because
he was desperately ill, and down and out and we hadn’t a penny, the three of
us, and I had to have money for him, and didn’t care how I got it, didn’t care
for anything on earth but seeing him well again, and happy.” She stopped and
drew a panting breath. “There—I’d rather have told you that than have your
money. I’d rather you should know what Steve was to me than think any longer that
you owned him …”
I
was still kneeling by Mrs. Glenn, my arm about her. Once I felt her heart give
a great shake; then it seemed to stop altogether. Her eyes were no longer
turned to me, but fixed in a wide stare on Mrs. Brown. A tremor convulsed her
face; then, to my amazement, it was smoothed into
out of her deep eyes. “What does she mean when she says you knew about Stevie?”
I
pressed her hand without answering. All my mind was
concentrated on the effort of silencing my antagonist and getting her out of
the room. Mrs. Brown leaned in the window-frame and looked down on us. I could
see that she was dismayed at what she had said, and yet exultant; and my business
was to work on the dismay before the exultation mastered it. But Mrs. Glenn
still held me down: her eyes seemed to be forcing their gaze into me. “Is it
true?” she asked almost inaudibly.
“True?”
Mrs. Brown burst out. “Ask him to swear to you it’s not true—see what he looks
like then! He was in the conspiracy, you old simpleton.”
Mrs.
Glenn’s head straightened itself again on her weak neck: her face wore a
singular majesty. “You were my friend—” she appealed to me.
“I’ve
always been your friend.”
“Then
I don’t have to believe her.”
Mrs.
Brown seemed to have been gathering herself up for a last onslaught. She saw
that I was afraid to try to force her from the room, and the discovery gave her
a sense of hazy triumph, as if all that was left to her was to defy me. “Tell
her I’m lying— why don’t you tell her I’m lying?” she
taunted me.
I
knelt down by my old friend and put my arm about her. “Will you come away with
me now—at once? I’ll take you wherever you want to go … I’ll look after you …
I’ll always look after you.”
Mrs.
Glenn’s eyes grew wider. She seemed to weigh my words till their sense
penetrated her; then she said, in the same low voice: “It is true, then?”
“Come
away with me; come away with me,” I repeated.
I
felt her trying to rise; but her feet failed under her and she sank back. “Yes,
take me away from her,” she said.
Mrs.
Brown laughed. “Oh, that’s it, is it? ‘Come away from that bad woman, and I’ll
explain everything, and make it all right’ … Why don’t you adopt him instead of Steve? I daresay that’s
what he’s been after all the time. That’s the reason he was so determined we
shouldn’t have your money …” She drew back, and pointed to the door. “You can
go with him—who’s to prevent you? I couldn’t if I wanted to. I see now it’s for
him we’ve been nursing your precious millions … Well, go with him, and he’ll
tell you the whole story …”A strange secretive smile stole over her face. “All
except one bit … there’s one bit he doesn’t know; but you’re going to know it now.”
She
stepped nearer, and I held up my hand; but she hurried on, her eyes on Mrs.
Glenn. “What he doesn’t know is why we fixed the thing up. Steve wasn’t my
adopted son any more than he was your real one. Adopted son, indeed! How old do
you suppose I am? He was my lover. There—do you understand? My Lover! That’s
why we faked up that ridiculous adoption story, and all the rest of it—because
he was desperately ill, and down and out and we hadn’t a penny, the three of
us, and I had to have money for him, and didn’t care how I got it, didn’t care
for anything on earth but seeing him well again, and happy.” She stopped and
drew a panting breath. “There—I’d rather have told you that than have your
money. I’d rather you should know what Steve was to me than think any longer that
you owned him …”
I
was still kneeling by Mrs. Glenn, my arm about her. Once I felt her heart give
a great shake; then it seemed to stop altogether. Her eyes were no longer
turned to me, but fixed in a wide stare on Mrs. Brown. A tremor convulsed her
face; then, to my amazement, it was smoothed into
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