We moved there and I
left him--with Mathers. I promised Mathers that he should have
twenty pounds a week for every week he kept his master away from
me. He has kept him away for seven months."
"What about that story of yours--about his having gone in
swimming?" Pritchard asked.
"I wanted people to believe that he was dead," she declared
defiantly. "I was afraid that if you or his relations found him,
I should have to live with him or give up the money."
Pritchard nodded.
"And to-night you thought--"
"I thought he was his brother Jerry," she went on. "The likeness
was always amazing, you know that. I was told that Jerry was in
town. I felt nervous, somehow, and wired to Mathers. I had his
reply only last night. He wired that Wenham was quite safe and
contented, not even restless."
"That telegram was sent by Wenham himself," Pritchard remarked.
"I think you had better hear what he has to say."
She shrank back.
"No. I couldn't bear the sight of him again!"
"I think you had better," Pritchard insisted. "I can assure you
that he is quite harmless. I will guarantee that."
He left the room. Soon he returned, his arm locked in the arm of
Wenham Gardner. The latter had the look of a spoilt child who is
in disgrace. He sat sullenly upon a chair and glared at every
one. Then he produced a small crumpled doll, with a thread of
black cotton around its neck, and began swinging it in front of
him, laughing at Elizabeth all the time.
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