Clay was in a radiant
humour. Dr. Barner's friendly attitude toward him had
apparently changed the aspect of affairs, and now the
old doctor had suggested taking him into partnership.
"Think of it, Grantley," the young man had exclaimed,
"what this will mean to me. He is a great man in his
profession, so clever, so witty, so scholarly, everything.
He was the double gold medallist in his year at McGill,
and he has been keeping absolutely sober lately--thanks
to your good offices"--at which the other made a gesture
of dissent--"and then I would be in a better position to
look after things. As it has been, any help I gave Mary
in keeping the old man from killing people had to be done
on the sly."
The minister winced and went a shade paler at the mention
of her name, but the doctor did not notice.
"Mary is anxious to have it brought about, too," he went
on, "for it has always been a worry to her when he was
away, but now he will do the office work, and I will do
the driving. It will be a distinct advantage to me, though
of course I would do it anyway for her sake."
Then it was well for the minister that he came of a race
that can hold its features in control. This easy naming
of her name, the apparent proprietorship, the radiant
happiness in Clay's face, could mean but one thing. He
had been blind, blind, blind!
He heard himself saying mechanically.
"Yes, of course, I think it is the only thing to do,"
and Clay had gone out whistling.
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