Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-07-03


abrupt, triumphant business tone.
" If Smith remains locked up for a week, it
means a fortune for me-a fortune of mill
ions he said. If by any chance he is re-
leased and finds me the second time, it
means-it means ruin, absolute ruin!''
" But why?' the girl insisted.
He didn't answer the question. and for
some reason she didn't press it. Instead:
You are not a rich man. are you, Dad
dy:" she asked curiouSly. - mean rich in
the sense of the great rich men of New
York;"
I'm pauper. compared to the Wall
Street crowd Clarke replied steadily. Il
am worth perhaps three hundred thousand
dollars. perhaps less. However, if Smith
stays in Jail for a week just week, I'll be
worth millions. Millions, Girly! Do YOU TN
derstand?'
There was some inarticulate noise in the
girls throat, sort of gasp, and she rose.
Her slim hands closed tightly behind her
back; she stood rigid.
II shall not ask you, Daddy, why it is to
your advantage for Mr.. Smith to remain in
Jail: nor shall | ask you why he should have
submitted to arrest under your name. But
there is one thing | will ask, and l have a
right to an answer Why should anyone by
your name be arrested? What have you
dOne?"
one hand while the other gripped the little
leather bag. There's nothing | can say to
that question now he remarked slowly
II was afraid you wouldn't answer it,
Will you answer this: Has there been any
act f-dshOnesty?"
The words came hollowly, with an effort.
Clarke stared at her for long time. Finally,
1t is useless to continue such a CONVERSE
ton. | will see the Marquis d Aubigny
when he calls"
Is 1t possible for man in your position.
a banker, to raise large sum of money. a
very large sum OF money, or to have 1t in
trusted to him for-wel. say for investment"
Why, Grly, that is my business
His fingers closed more tightly on the lit
tie leather bag as his eyes searched her face
for the meaning of that singular question.
And as he looked she seemed to be overcome
suddenly by a violent revusiOn of feeling
and he found her on her knees beside the bed,
her wet face buried in the sheets. sobbing.
Forgive me, Daddy" she pleaded
Forgive mel It's all so strange, so unreal
l can't understand. | don't suppose | ever
shall. | think | am not-not quite myself
Clarke rested his hand on her radiant hair
until the storm of sobs had passed and fierce
ly fought back some powerful emotion that
halted his words. DO you know what YOU
need more than anything else in the world?"
liz iuClloh SSHlIy dI lsiSl, atlit llllS WdS Tie
father speaking. She looked up expectantly
You need good cry. Run along now,
and don't disturb yourself about horrid
things you don't understand
THAT night Marquis d'Aubigny, a little
man of indetermnate age, immaculate
fOppish even in dress, with that singuarlv
loathsome expression of the eyes that one
grows accustomed to seeing in the cafes of
the Champs Elysees, called and remained
with Clarke for an hour. Edna, in person,
admitted him to the poor little apartment,
and under his stare flushed crimson with in
tangible anger. helpless rebellion against
the things she saw there. With hot cheeks she
turned away into the little cubbyhole of a
room adjoining that in which her father lay
and flung herself across the bed
1t was no fault of hers that she heard the
conversation IN that room, separated from
that of her father by only a fimsy door
which would not close perfectly; but when
the Marquis had gone she stood for time
staring after him, then entered the room
where her father lay. He was sitting straight
up IN bed in the act of opening the little
leather bag. He tried to conceal it.
What do you WANT" he demanded
harshly.