Well--it is all for the best. Fanny
sees him grow stronger every day--whatever happens she can testify to
the care with which the man has been treated. So far she thought she
would have us in her power, and we have her."
"You are mighty clever, Vimpany; but sometimes you are too clever for
me, and, perhaps, too clever for yourself."
"Let me make myself clearer"--conscious of the nurse's suspicions, he
leaned forward and whispered: "Fanny must go. Now is the time. The man
is recovering. The man must go: the next patient will be your lordship
himself. Now do you understand?"
"Partly."
"Enough. If I am to act it is sufficient for you to understand step by
step. Our suspicious nurse is to go. That is the next step. Leave me to
act."
Lord Harry walked away. He left the thing to the doctor. It hardly
seemed to concern him. A dying man; a conspiracy; a fraud:--yet the
guilty knowledge of all this gave him small uneasiness. He carried with
him his wife's last note: "May I hope to find on my return the man whom
I have trusted and honoured?" His conscience, callous as regards the
doctor's scheme, filled him with remorse whenever--which was fifty
times a day--he took this little rag of a note from his pocket-book and
read it again.
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