Ruthven was not in town.
So Selwyn hung up the receiver and sat down, thoughtful, grim, the trace
of a scowl creeping across his narrowing gray eyes.
Of the abject cowardice of Ruthven he had been so certain that he had
hitherto discounted any interference from him. Yet, now, the man was
apparently preparing for some sort of interference. What did he want?
Selwyn had contemptuously refused to permit him to seek a divorce on the
ground of his wife's infirmity. What was the man after?
* * * * *
The man was after his divorce, that was what it all meant. His first
check on the long trail came with the stupefying news of Gerald's
runaway marriage to the young girl he was laying his own plans to marry
some day in the future, and at first the news staggered him, leaving him
apparently no immediate incentive for securing his freedom.
But Ruthven instantly began to realise that what he had lost he might
not have lost had he been free to shoulder aside the young fellow who
had forestalled him.
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