"I see. How extraordinary! But the club has bought in all that land,
hasn't it?"
"Yes--but the stench of your treachery remains, my friend."
"Not treachery, only temptation," observed Ruthven blandly. "I've talked
it all over with Orchil and Mottly--"
"You--_what_!" gasped Neergard.
"Talked about it," repeated Ruthven, hard face guileless, and raising
his eyebrows--a dreadful caricature of youth in the misleading
smoothness of the minutely shaven face; "I told Orchil what you
persuaded me to do--"
"You--you damned--"
"Not at all, not at all!" protested Ruthven, languidly settling himself
once more among the cushions. "And by the way," he added, "there's a
law--by-law--something or other, that I understand may interest you"--he
looked up at Neergard, who had sunk back in his chair--"about unpaid
assessments--"
Neergard now for the first time was looking directly at him.
"Unpaid assessments," repeated Ruthven. "It's a, detail--a law--never
enforced unless we--ah--find it convenient to rid ourselves of a member.
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