The Last Woman - Page 81/137

"You came here out of the West, Morton, and, as you express it, met up with Patricia Langdon. In your impulsive way, you fell deeply in love with her, almost at first sight."

"That's no idle dream."

"You conceived the idea that she wore nobody's brand, which is another expression of your own, which I take to mean that you thought her affections were disengaged."

"That was the way I sized it up, Mr. Duncan."

"Therefore, I will tell you that Patricia and I have been intimate companions, since our earliest childhood. I can't remember when I have not thought her superior to any other woman, and I have always believed, as I now believe, that deep down in her inmost heart she loves me quite as well as I love her. There was an unfortunate circumstance, connected with our present engagement, which, unfortunately, I cannot explain to you, since it is another's secret, and not mine. But I shall explain, so far as to say that the circumstance deeply offended her; that when she made the remark to you, in the automobile, which aroused your resentment, she did it in anger; that, far from coercing her in this matter, I have not done so, and have not thought of doing so; and, lastly, I shall tell you, quite frankly, that the engagement between Patricia and myself and the date of the wedding which is to follow are both matters which she has had full power to arrange to her own satisfaction."

Duncan hesitated a moment, and then, as Morton made no response, he suddenly extended Patricia's letter, which he still held in his hand.

"Read that," he said. "I don't know why I show it to you, save that I feel the impulse to do so. It is entirely a confidential communication, and I call upon you to treat it as such. But read the letter from Patricia Langdon, which I have just received, Mr. Morton; it will probably make you wiser on many points that now confound you."

Morton accepted the letter, but the lines of his face were hard and unrelenting; his jaws and lips were shut tightly together; his aggressive chin was thrust forward just a little bit, and his hazel eyes were cold and uncompromising in their expression.

He read the letter through to the end, without a change of expression; then, he read it a second time, and a third. At last, he slowly left his seat, and, stepping forward, placed the document, which he had refolded, upon the table. He reached for his hat, and smoothed it tentatively with the palm of one of his big hands. But all the while he kept his eyes fixed sternly upon the face of the young Croesus he had gone there to interview.