"
"I will send you a copy to-morrow."
"I will burn it directly it arrives."
"Then you will miss a great deal of valuable information," said Mrs.
Porter tranquilly.
There was a pause. John Bannister glared furiously at Mrs. Porter, but
her gaze was moving easily about the room, taking in each picture in
turn in a leisurely inspection.
An exclamation from Ruth broke the silence, a sharp cry like that of an
animal in pain. She sprang up, her face working, her eyes filled with
tears.
"I can't stand it!" she cried. "I can't stand it any longer! Father,
Kirk and I were married this afternoon."
Mrs. Porter went quickly to her and put her arm round her. Ruth was
sobbing helplessly. The strain had broken her. John Bannister's face
was leaden. The veins stood out on his forehead. His mouth twisted
dumbly.
Mrs. Porter led Ruth gently to the door and pushed her out. Then she
closed it and turned to him.
"So now you know, John," she said. "Well, what are you going to do
about it?"
Self-control was second nature with John Bannister. For years he had
cultivated it as a commercial asset. Often a fortune had depended on
his mastery of his emotions. Now, in an instant, he had himself under
control once more. His face resumed its normal expression of cold
impassiveness. Only his mouth twitched a little.
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