"I tell
you he's after nothing on earth but to get his finger in that old
man's money-pile, over there, next door! He'd marry ANYBODY to do it.
Marry Edith?" she cried. "I tell you he'd marry their nigger cook for
THAT!"
She stopped, afraid--at the wrong time--that she had been too
vehement, but a glance at Mary reassured her, and Sibyl decided that
she had produced the effect she wished. Mary was not looking at her;
she was staring straight before her at the wall, her eyes wide and
shining. She became visibly a little paler as Sibyl looked at her.
"After nothing on earth but to get his finger in that old man's
money-pile, over there, next door!" The voice was vulgar, the words
were vulgar--and the plain truth was vulgar! How it rang in Mary
Vertrees's ears! The clear mirror had caught its own image clearly
in the flawed one at last.
Sibyl put forth her best bid to clench the matter. She offered her
bargain. "Now don't you worry," she said, sunnily, "about this
setting Edith against you. She'll get over it after a while, anyway,
but if she tried to be spiteful and make it uncomfortable for you
when you drop in over there, or managed so as to sort of leave you
out, why, I've got a house, and Jim likes to come there.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145