"
Paul was not listening to his friend's scruples. He had risen from his
chair, and was walking up and down the room. Presently he paused and
faced the priest with the air of a man who sees his way and has made up
his mind. His voice rang clear with decision.
"Then this is the net that has been woven about her--the innocent,
helpless little thing! She is to be made a victim through her tenderest
and most natural affections. It's like seething a kid in its mother's
milk. And how utterly unprotected she is! Think of her father! Look at
the judge--for all his kindness! What is there to expect from him? And
Philip Alston, who pretends to love her? He is using her affection for
himself to bring about this marriage, so that she may bind this dull
tool--this pompous fool, Pressley--to the service of an organized band
of robbers and assassins."
"You are rushing to conclusions, my son. There is no reason, is there,
to think that she doesn't love the young man? We haven't the slightest
right to assume that. I certainly have not--have you?"
Father Orin spoke with a keen look at the pale, agitated young face,
which flushed painfully.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274