"
At this moment the mind of Harley fitted the name Ridgway to its niche in
his brain. So this was the audacious filibuster who had dared to fire on
the trust flag, the man he had come West to ruin and to humble.
"I think you will have to include me, Mr. Ridgway," he said suavely. "What
is done for my wife is done, also, for me."
CHAPTER 6. 0N THE SNOW-TRAIL
Aline had passed into the house, moved by an instinct which shrank from
publicity in the inevitable personal meeting between her and her husband.
Now, Harley, with the cavalier nod of dismissal, which only a
multimillionaire can afford, followed her and closed the door. A
passionate rush of blood swept Ridgway's face. He saw red as he stood
there with eyes burning into that door which had been shut in his face.
The nails of his clenched fingers bit into his palms, and his muscles
gathered themselves tensely. He had been cast aside, barred from the woman
he loved by this septuagenarian, as carelessly as if he had no claim.
And it came home to him that now he had no claim, none before the law and
society.
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