"You may now see that it is relatively unimportant that twelve or fourteen neighbors of Mrs. Russell may be aware that all has not been regular with her and that they may have identified the man. For all practical purposes they are harmless; some of them undoubtedly feel sympathy for them both; some feel it is none of any one's else affair; a few, unquestionably, are shocked. But very few people, without some motive of self-advantage, take the trouble of disciplining others. They merely take it out in talk. There is one chance—perhaps as large a chance as one in a thousand—that some busybody from Clearedge Street may visit your home. I may say the chance exists only if there happens to be a neighbor who lives by the profession of morality. I mention this solely that when it may occur to you, you will disregard it.
"To discover who may be dangerous, we have merely to reckon who may consider himself benefited by ruining your father; as well as I have been able to calculate so far, there are only two. One is Russell. He tried blackmail which he rather in judiciously backed by a flourish with a revolver which he fired, I believe, in excitement and not intentionally. Undoubtedly now he is frightened; when your father recovers and returns to business, he may again be heard from—but not now unless in connection with the man whom we have immediately to guard against, Stanway. Unquestionably you know Mr. E. H. Stanway."
Marjorie nodded; her lips were very dry and she longed now for the water at Rinderfeld's elbow, but she would not ask for it.
"I've known him all my life," she said. "He employed father, who started as his clerk, Mr. Rinderfeld."
