"And if I may say so, I've no feeling of
enmity towards you. When I speak of us being adversaries, I mean it
in--well, let's say a sort of legal sense. But now I'll show you my
hand--that is, as far as I please. Will you listen quietly to me?"
"I've no choice," replied Nesta bluntly. "And I came here to know what
you've got to say for yourself. Say it!"
Pratt moved his chair a little nearer to his visitor.
"Now," he said, speaking very quietly and deliberately, "I'll go through
what I have to say to you carefully, point by point. I shall ask you to
go back a little way. It is now some time since I discovered a secret
about your mother, Mrs. Mallathorpe. Ah, you start!--it may be with
indignation, but I assure you I'm telling you, and am going to tell you,
the absolute truth. I say--a secret! No one knows it but myself--not one
living soul! Except, of course, your mother. I shall not reveal it to
you--under any consideration, or in any circumstances--but I can tell
you this--if that secret were revealed, your mother would be ruined for
life--and you yourself would suffer in more ways than one."
Nesta looked at him incredulously--and yet she began to feel he was
telling some truth. And Pratt shook his head at the incredulous
expression.
"It's quite so!" he said. "You'll begin to believe it---from other
things. Now, it was in connection with this that I paid a visit to
Normandale Grange one evening some months ago.
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