Page 235
Story: The Breaking Point
"So here we are, again, Jud!" he said. "But with this change, that
now it's you who are the respectable member of the community, and I'm
the--well, we'll call it the butterfly."
There was unmistakable insult in his tone, and Dick caught it.
"Then I take it you're still living off your sister?"
The contempt in Dick's voice whipped the color to Gregory's face and
clenched his fist. But he relaxed in a moment and laughed.
"Don't worry, Bassett," he said, his eyes on Dick. "We haven't any
reason to like each other, but he's bigger than I am. I won't hit him."
Then he hardened his voice. "But I'll remind you, Clark, that personally
I don't give a God-damn whether you swing or not. Also that I can keep
my mouth shut, walk out of here, and have you in quod in the next hour,
if I decide to."
"But you won't," Bassett said smoothly. "You won't, any more than you
did it last spring, when you sent that little letter of yours to David
Livingstone."
"No. You're right. I won't. But if I tell you what I came here to say,
Bassett, get this straight. It's not because I'm afraid of you, or of
him. Donaldson's dead. What value would Melis's testimony have after ten
years, if you put him on the stand? It's not that. It's because you'll
put your blundering foot into it and ruin Bev's career, unless I tell
you the truth."
It was to Bassett then that he told his story, he and Bassett sitting,
Dick standing with his elbow on the mantelpiece, tall and weary and
almost detached.
"I've got to make my own position plain in this," he said. "I didn't
like Clark, and I kept her from marrying him. There was one time, before
she met Lucas, when she almost did it. I was away when she decided on
that fool trip to the Clark ranch. We couldn't get a New York theater
until November, and she had some time, so they went. I've got her story
of what happened there. You can check it up with what you know."
He turned to Dick for a moment.
"You were drinking pretty hard that night, but you may remember this:
She had quarreled with Lucas at dinner that night and with you. That's
true, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"She went to her room and began to pack her things. Then she thought
it over, and she decided to try to persuade Lucas to go too. Things had
begun all right, but they were getting strained and unpleasant. She went
down the stairs, and Melis saw her, the valet. The living-room was dark,
but there was a light coming through the billiard room door, and against
it she saw the figure of a man in the doorway. He had his back to her,
and he had a revolver in his hand. She ran across the room when he
heard her and when he turned she saw it was Lucas. Do you remember, Jud,
having a revolver and Lucas taking it from you?"
now it's you who are the respectable member of the community, and I'm
the--well, we'll call it the butterfly."
There was unmistakable insult in his tone, and Dick caught it.
"Then I take it you're still living off your sister?"
The contempt in Dick's voice whipped the color to Gregory's face and
clenched his fist. But he relaxed in a moment and laughed.
"Don't worry, Bassett," he said, his eyes on Dick. "We haven't any
reason to like each other, but he's bigger than I am. I won't hit him."
Then he hardened his voice. "But I'll remind you, Clark, that personally
I don't give a God-damn whether you swing or not. Also that I can keep
my mouth shut, walk out of here, and have you in quod in the next hour,
if I decide to."
"But you won't," Bassett said smoothly. "You won't, any more than you
did it last spring, when you sent that little letter of yours to David
Livingstone."
"No. You're right. I won't. But if I tell you what I came here to say,
Bassett, get this straight. It's not because I'm afraid of you, or of
him. Donaldson's dead. What value would Melis's testimony have after ten
years, if you put him on the stand? It's not that. It's because you'll
put your blundering foot into it and ruin Bev's career, unless I tell
you the truth."
It was to Bassett then that he told his story, he and Bassett sitting,
Dick standing with his elbow on the mantelpiece, tall and weary and
almost detached.
"I've got to make my own position plain in this," he said. "I didn't
like Clark, and I kept her from marrying him. There was one time, before
she met Lucas, when she almost did it. I was away when she decided on
that fool trip to the Clark ranch. We couldn't get a New York theater
until November, and she had some time, so they went. I've got her story
of what happened there. You can check it up with what you know."
He turned to Dick for a moment.
"You were drinking pretty hard that night, but you may remember this:
She had quarreled with Lucas at dinner that night and with you. That's
true, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"She went to her room and began to pack her things. Then she thought
it over, and she decided to try to persuade Lucas to go too. Things had
begun all right, but they were getting strained and unpleasant. She went
down the stairs, and Melis saw her, the valet. The living-room was dark,
but there was a light coming through the billiard room door, and against
it she saw the figure of a man in the doorway. He had his back to her,
and he had a revolver in his hand. She ran across the room when he
heard her and when he turned she saw it was Lucas. Do you remember, Jud,
having a revolver and Lucas taking it from you?"
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