It sounds odd, but
the truth is that Prentiss McMakin was always a
more convincing sort of a person when he had been
drinking a little than when he was sober. He
lacked warmth--he lacked temperament. I suppose
just the right amount put it into him. It put the
devil into him, too, I reckon.
"He told me that you and he, Tom, had been to
Clarksville, and had made investigations, and that
the wedding was a fraud. And he told it with a
wealth of convincing detail. In the midst of it he
broke off to ask to see my wedding certificate. As
he talked, he laughed at it, and tore it up, saying
that the thing was not worth the paper it was on,
and he threw the pieces of paper into the grate. I
listened, and I let him do it--not that the paper
itself mattered particularly. But the very fact that
I let him tear it showed me, myself, that I was
believing him.
"He ended with an impassioned appeal to me to
go with him.
"I showed him the door. I pretended to the
last that I thought he was lying to me. But I did
not think so. I believed him. He had done it all
very cleverly. You can understand how I might--
in view of what had happened?"
I wanted to see Miss Lucy--how she looked
when she said different things, so I could make up
my mind whether she was forgiving the doctor or
not.
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