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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"The Malefactor"

Good day!"
The young man stood as though he were stunned.
"I--I can't find it," he faltered. "I can't indeed."
"Your resources are not my affair," Wingrave said. "I shall instruct
my broker to do as I have said. If the money is not forthcoming, you
know the alternative."
"You mean to ruin me, then?" Nesbitt said slowly.
"I mean to exact the payment of what is due to me," Wingrave said
curtly. "If you cannot pay, it seems to me that I am the person to be
pitied--not you. Show Mr. Nesbitt out, Aynesworth."
Nesbitt turned towards the door. He was very pale, but he walked
steadily. He did not speak another word to Wingrave.
"I'm beastly sorry," Aynesworth said to him on the stairs. "I wish I
could help you!"
"Thank you," Nesbitt answered. "No one can help me. I'm through."
Aynesworth returned to the sitting room. Wingrave had lit a cigarette
and watched him as he arranged some papers.
"Quite a comedy, isn't it?" he remarked grimly.
"It doesn't present itself in that light to me," Aynesworth answered.
Wingrave blew the smoke away from in front of his face. "Ah!" he said,
"I forgot that you were a sentimentalist. I look upon these things
from my own point of view. From yours, I suppose I must seem a very
disagreeable person. I admit frankly that the sufferings of other
people do not affect me in the slightest."
"I am sorry for you," Aynesworth said shortly. "If there is going to
be much of this sort of thing, though, I must ask you to relieve me of
my post.


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