May 15, 2025 • 17 mins
Transplanted from New York to save his familys business in the aftermath of the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, Price Ruyler quickly ascends to the top of the citys bachelor list. Yet, he remains immune to the local girls advances and their mothers schemes. That is, until he encounters the enchanting Helene, leading to a whirlwind proposal within just a week. As they journey into their fourth year of marriage, Prices love for Helene remains steadfast. However, he begins to sense a shift, sparking questions about her enigmatic past and whether any family secrets were lost in the earthquakes aftermath.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter twelve of The Avalanche. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or a volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Lynn Thompson. The Avalanche by Gertrude horn Atherton, Chapter twelve,
(00:21):
Part one. They walked rapidly up the close auvenue, planted
far back in the fifties by Ford Thornton's grandfather, the
blaze of light at the end of the long perspective
growing wider and wider as they emerged. They paused for
a moment, dazzled by the scene. The original home of
the Thorntons had been of ordinary American architecture and covered
(00:44):
with ivy. It might have been transplanted from some old
aristocratic village in the East Flora. Thornton had maintained that
only one style of architecture was appropriate in a state
settled by the Spaniards and famous for its mission of
Moorish architecture. Fordy loved the old house, but as he
(01:05):
denied his wife nothing, he had given her a million
three years before the fire which so sadly diminished fortunes,
and told her to build any sort of house she pleased,
if she would only promise to live in it and
not desert him twice a year. For Europe, the immense structure,
standing on a knoll, bought a certain resemblance to the Alhambra,
(01:28):
with its heavy square towers, its arched gateways leading into
courtyards with fountains or sunken pools, the red brown of
the stucco, which looked like stone and was not to night,
it was blazing with lights of every color. So were
the ancient oaks, which were old when the Alhambra was built,
The shrubberies, the vast rose garden, the surface of the pool,
(01:52):
and the sunken garden reflected the green or red masses
of light that shot up every few moments from the
four corners of the terrace surrounding it. On the lawn
just above and to the right of the house, a
platform had been built for dancing. It was enclosed on
three sides, with an arbor of many alcoves, lined with flowers,
(02:12):
soft lights concealed in depending clusters of oranges, and everywhere
there were people dressed in costumes gorgeous, picturesque, impressive, historic
or recklessly invented, but suggesting every era when dress counted
at all. They danced on the great platform to the
strains of the Invisible band, strolled along the terraces above
(02:35):
the sunken garden, wandered through the groves and grounds, or
sat in the windows of the Great House or in
its courts. All wore the little black satin mask prescribed
by Missus Thornton, and created an illusion that transported the
imagination far from California. Ryla had a whimsical sense of
being on another star, where the favored of the different
(02:58):
periods of Earth had four gathered for the night. But
there was nothing ghostly in the shrill chatter, as incessant
as the twitter of the agitated birds, who found their
nights snatched from them, and hardly knew whether to scold
or join in the chorus. Ryler had always protested against
the high pitched din made by even six American women
(03:20):
when gathered together, and to the infernal racket at any
large entertainment. But to night he sighed forgetting his apprehensions.
For the moment he had exquisite memories of these lovely grounds.
He and Elene had spent several days with Missus Thornton
during their engagement, and she had lent them the house
(03:41):
for their honeymoon. He would have liked to wander through
the pleasant spaces with his wife to night and make
love to her instead of spying on her in the
company of a detective. For that, he was forced to
conclude was what he had been brought for. Spalding had
mentioned her name casually when telling him that he must
be on hand to nap the party who was at
(04:02):
the bottom of the whole trouble. But Spalding hardly could
have watched the person who was blackmailing without including her
in his surveillance. He wished now that he had left
that part of the mystery to take care of itself,
trusting to his mother in law's departure to relieve the situation.
No doubt she would have told him the truth herself,
(04:24):
rather than leave her daughter to the mercy of the
men who knew her secret. But he was still far
from suspecting the worst of the truth. There were a
number of men in fancy dominoes. He and Spalding crossed
the lawn in front of the house unchallenged, and, passing
under the frowning archway, entered the first of the courts.
(04:45):
The oblong sunken pool was banked with myrtle, and above
as well as in the great inner court with the fountain,
there were narrow arcaded windows with fluttering silken curtains. Missus
Thornton had two satyria a sense of humor to have
had the famous arabesques of the Alhambra reproduced any more
(05:05):
than the massive coats of arms above the arches. But
the walls were delicately colored, the delicate columns looked like
old ivory, and the greatest of the local architects had
been entirely successful in combining the massiveness of the warrior
stronghold with the airy lightness and spaciousness of the pleasure house.
(05:26):
The bedrooms rile aht Old Spalding were all as modern
as they were luxurious, and the library, living rooms, and
dining room were in the best American style. Fordy had
rebelled at too much Spanish atmosphere, his blood being straight
Anglo Saxon, and Missus Thornton always knew when to yield. Nevertheless,
(05:47):
Flora Thornton had built the proper setting for her barbaric beauty,
and possibly spirit people were sitting about the courts on
piles of colored silken cushions, those that had got themselves
up in eastern costumes, having drifted naturally to the suitable surroundings,
for after all, the moors had been Mohammedan's don't let's
(06:10):
hang round here, said the detective. And don't stand holding
yourself like a ramrod like that gent out there with
the rough that must be taking the skin off his chin.
I kind of thought I'd like to see the whole show,
but we'd best go now and wait for our little turn.
He led the way round the building to the rear
of the southwest tower. There was a little grove of
(06:31):
jasmine trees just beneath it that made the air overpower
only suite. But there were no lights on this side,
as the garages, stables, vegetable gardens and servants quarters would
have destroyed The picture. Spolding glanced about sharply, but there
was not even a strolling couple, and even the moon
was shining on the other side of the heavy mass
(06:53):
of buildings. Now listen, he said, you see this window
he indicated one directly over their heads. At exactly one o'clock,
when everybody is flocking to the supper tables on the terraces.
I expect someone to lean out of that window and
talk to someone who will be waiting just below. There
may be no talk, but I think there will be,
(07:16):
and I want you to listen to every word of
it without so much as drawing a long breath, no
matter what is said, until I grab your elbow like this.
Then I want you to put up your hand in
a hurry while I'm also attending to business. That's all
I'll say now, But by the time a few words
have been said later, I guess you'll be on. Now,
(07:38):
we must resign ourselves to a long wait without a smoke,
and to keeping perfectly still. I dare not risk coming
any later, for fear the others might be beforehand too.
Rylah ground his teeth. He felt ridiculous and humiliated. It
was no compensation that he was holding up the wall
of a stucco Moorish palace and that some three hundred
(07:59):
masks people in fancy dress were within earshot, or did
the way he was talked out make him feel all
the more absurd. The whole thing was beastly Unamerican. But
was it? After all? If he and Helene had been
here together to night, not married and harrowed, but engaged
and quick with romance. Would he have thought it absurd
(08:23):
to conspire and maneuver to separate her from the crowd
and snatch a few moments of heavenly solitude. Would he
have despised himself for suffering torments if she flouted him,
or for wanting to murder any man who balked him.
Love and all the passions creative and destructive it engendered,
all the sentiments and follies and crimes, to say nothing
(08:45):
of ambition and greed, and the lust to kill him war.
These were instincts and traits that appeared in mankind generation
after generation, in every corner, civilized and savage of the globe.
The world changed, somewhat informed during its progress, but never
in substance, and mystery and intrigue were equally a part
(09:09):
of life, as indigenous to the twelfth century as to
those days long entombed in history when the troops of
Ferdinand and Isabella sat down on the plain before Grenada.
Plot and melodrama were in every day life in sum
so briefly as hardly to be recognized in others, In
(09:30):
that of certain men and women in the public eye.
For instance, they were almost in the nature of a
continuous performance. In these days, men took a bath morning
and evening eight daintily, had a refined vocabulary to use
on demand, dressed in tweeds instead of velvet. There were
longer intervals between the old style of warfare, when men
(09:51):
were always plugging one another full of holes in the
name of religion or disputed territory, merely to amuse themselves
with a tryout of right against might, or to gratify
the insane ambition of some upstart like Napoleon. To day,
the business world was the battlefield, and it was his capital.
A man was always healing his poor brain that collapsed
(10:14):
nightly after the strain and nervous worry of the day.
It suddenly felt quite normal to be here, flattened against
the wall, waiting for some impossible denouement. Nevertheless, he was
sick with apprehension. Would it merely be the prelude to
another drama? Was his life to be a series of
unwritten plays of which he was both the hero and
(10:37):
the bewildered spectator. Or would it bring him calm the
terrible calm of stagnation of an inner life finished, sealed, buried.
It was inevitable, in these romantic surroundings and conditions, that
he should revert to his almost forgotten jealousy. Suppose Spalding
had stumbled upon something, but he had been asked for
(10:59):
no such evidence. It would be a damnable liberty. It
might be inextricably woven with the business in hand. There
were other men besides the rumors, whom Helene saw constantly scolding,
may have seen his chance to nip the thing in
the bud, and had taken the risk. He felt the
detective's lips at his ear. Hear anything, move a little,
(11:20):
says you can look up. Ryler heard his wife's voice
above him, then Eileen Lawton's. He parted the branches and
saw the two girls lean over the low sill of
the casement. Both had removed their masks, but their faces
were only dimly revealed. Their voices, however, were distinct enough,
and his wife's was dull and flat. Oh I can't,
(11:44):
she said, I can't. Well, you'll just jolly well have to.
You've got it, haven't you. Oh, yes, I've got it.
Well he'll never suspect you. I shall tell him, tell him,
you little fall and give us all away. I'd mention
no other names, as if he wouldn't probe until he
(12:05):
found out. Don't you know Price Riler yet? My father
said once he'd have made a great district attorney. What's
the use of telling him later? For that matter? Why
not now? I haven't the courage yet. I might have
one day, at just the right moment. I never thought
I was a coward. You're just a kid, That's what's
(12:26):
the matter. We ought to have left you out. I
told Polly that you couldn't. Oh, don't you see you couldn't.
That's a terrible part of it. Left me out. I'd
have found my way in. I'm not so sure you
were interested in heaps of things and in love and
all that. Oh. I'd like to excuse myself by blaming
it on being loved and tired of trying to amuse
(12:47):
myself doing nothing worth while. But it's bad blood, That's
what it is. Bad blood, and you know it if
none of the others do. Oh, I'm not one of
your hereditary fiends. When did your mother I tell you
only the other day, Well, she ought to have told
you long ago. I believe you'd have kept out. If
you'd known, wouldn't I But of course she hated to
(13:10):
tell the truth to me. Well, if i'd known that
you didn't know, I'd have told you, all right. I
warmed it out of Dad soon after you arrived, and
at first I thought it was a good joke on
society to say nothing of Price Ryler, with his air
of God having created heaven first maybe, but New York.
Just after then I got fond of you, and I
wouldn't have told for the world, but I would have
(13:33):
put you on your guard if i'd known. Oh, it
doesn't matter. Even if Price doesn't find out about this.
If he learns the other who my father was, and
that awful men have recognized my mother, I suppose he'll
hate me, and in time I'll go back to rule. Now.
You don't think as ill as that of him, do you?
(13:55):
He makes me so mad sometimes I could spit in
his face. But if he's one thing, he's true blue.
He's the straight, masculine type with a streak of old
romance that would make him love a woman. The more
the sorrier he was for her, and the weaker she was,
I mean, so long as she was young. After this
just get to work on your character. Kid, when you're thirty,
(14:16):
maybe he won't feel that it's his whole duty to
protect you. You'll never be hard and seasoned like me,
nor able to take care of yourself. I like danger
and excitement and uncertainty and mystery and intrigue and lying
and wriggling out of type places. I'd have gone mad
in this hole long ago if I hadn't for I
(14:36):
don't care for sport. But you were intended to develop
into what is called a fine woman surrounded by the
right sort of man. Meanwhile, and Price Ryler is the
right sort. I'll say that much. For him, he'd have
driven me to drink. But he's just your sort. And
what am I doing? I'm the most degraded woman in
(14:57):
the world. Oh no, you're not. Not. By a long sight.
You don't know how much worse you could be. One
woman who is here to night. I saw lying dead
drunk in the road between San Matteo and Burlingame the
other day when I was driving with Alice Thorndyke. And
Alice is having a fourth or fifth lover, I forget
which they're no worse than I. Listen, he's coming, got
(15:21):
it ready, I can't. You must. He'll hound you in
the merry tattler until the whole town knows you're a
welcher and not a soul would speak to you. That
is one unpardonable sin. I wish i'd told Price, Oh, no,
you don't. This is just a lovely way out. Glad
he had the inspiration. Hello, Nick, A man had groped
(15:44):
his way between the trees and stood just under the window.
What are you doing here, asked the Remus sourly, witness, Witness,
my dear Nick. Besides, poor Olen never would have come alone.
So there you are to hell with all this melo
dramatic business. It could have been done anywhere. Not much
dark corners for dark doings. Well, hand it over. Rayler
(16:09):
had given his brain an icy shower bath as soon
as he heard his wife's voice, and was now as
cool and alert as ever the detective could have wished.
He did not wait for the promised impulse to his elbow.
His hand shot up just ahead of do Remus's and
closed over his wife's hand, which he felt at once
(16:29):
held the ruby. At the same moment, Spolding caught Drimus
by his medieval collar and shook him until the man's
teeth chattered. Then he slapped his face and kicked him.
Now you, he said, standing over the panting man, who
was mopping his bleeding nose and holding the electric torch
so that it would shine on his own face. You
(16:51):
get out of California, do you hear? You're a gambler
and a blackmailer and a pander to old women, and
I've got some evidence that would drag you into court. However,
it turned out so you'd find this town a live gridiron.
So get while you can go while the going's good. Durreamus,
too shaken to reply, slunk off, and Spalding, after a
(17:12):
glance upward, left as silently. End of chapter twelve,
Chapter twelve of The Avalanche. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or a volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Lynn Thompson. The Avalanche by Gertrude horn Atherton, Chapter twelve,
(00:21):
Part one. They walked rapidly up the close auvenue, planted
far back in the fifties by Ford Thornton's grandfather, the
blaze of light at the end of the long perspective
growing wider and wider as they emerged. They paused for
a moment, dazzled by the scene. The original home of
the Thorntons had been of ordinary American architecture and covered
(00:44):
with ivy. It might have been transplanted from some old
aristocratic village in the East Flora. Thornton had maintained that
only one style of architecture was appropriate in a state
settled by the Spaniards and famous for its mission of
Moorish architecture. Fordy loved the old house, but as he
(01:05):
denied his wife nothing, he had given her a million
three years before the fire which so sadly diminished fortunes,
and told her to build any sort of house she pleased,
if she would only promise to live in it and
not desert him twice a year. For Europe, the immense structure,
standing on a knoll, bought a certain resemblance to the Alhambra,
(01:28):
with its heavy square towers, its arched gateways leading into
courtyards with fountains or sunken pools, the red brown of
the stucco, which looked like stone and was not to night,
it was blazing with lights of every color. So were
the ancient oaks, which were old when the Alhambra was built,
The shrubberies, the vast rose garden, the surface of the pool,
(01:52):
and the sunken garden reflected the green or red masses
of light that shot up every few moments from the
four corners of the terrace surrounding it. On the lawn
just above and to the right of the house, a
platform had been built for dancing. It was enclosed on
three sides, with an arbor of many alcoves, lined with flowers,
(02:12):
soft lights concealed in depending clusters of oranges, and everywhere
there were people dressed in costumes gorgeous, picturesque, impressive, historic
or recklessly invented, but suggesting every era when dress counted
at all. They danced on the great platform to the
strains of the Invisible band, strolled along the terraces above
(02:35):
the sunken garden, wandered through the groves and grounds, or
sat in the windows of the Great House or in
its courts. All wore the little black satin mask prescribed
by Missus Thornton, and created an illusion that transported the
imagination far from California. Ryla had a whimsical sense of
being on another star, where the favored of the different
(02:58):
periods of Earth had four gathered for the night. But
there was nothing ghostly in the shrill chatter, as incessant
as the twitter of the agitated birds, who found their
nights snatched from them, and hardly knew whether to scold
or join in the chorus. Ryler had always protested against
the high pitched din made by even six American women
(03:20):
when gathered together, and to the infernal racket at any
large entertainment. But to night he sighed forgetting his apprehensions.
For the moment he had exquisite memories of these lovely grounds.
He and Elene had spent several days with Missus Thornton
during their engagement, and she had lent them the house
(03:41):
for their honeymoon. He would have liked to wander through
the pleasant spaces with his wife to night and make
love to her instead of spying on her in the
company of a detective. For that, he was forced to
conclude was what he had been brought for. Spalding had
mentioned her name casually when telling him that he must
be on hand to nap the party who was at
(04:02):
the bottom of the whole trouble. But Spalding hardly could
have watched the person who was blackmailing without including her
in his surveillance. He wished now that he had left
that part of the mystery to take care of itself,
trusting to his mother in law's departure to relieve the situation.
No doubt she would have told him the truth herself,
(04:24):
rather than leave her daughter to the mercy of the
men who knew her secret. But he was still far
from suspecting the worst of the truth. There were a
number of men in fancy dominoes. He and Spalding crossed
the lawn in front of the house unchallenged, and, passing
under the frowning archway, entered the first of the courts.
(04:45):
The oblong sunken pool was banked with myrtle, and above
as well as in the great inner court with the fountain,
there were narrow arcaded windows with fluttering silken curtains. Missus
Thornton had two satyria a sense of humor to have
had the famous arabesques of the Alhambra reproduced any more
(05:05):
than the massive coats of arms above the arches. But
the walls were delicately colored, the delicate columns looked like
old ivory, and the greatest of the local architects had
been entirely successful in combining the massiveness of the warrior
stronghold with the airy lightness and spaciousness of the pleasure house.
(05:26):
The bedrooms rile aht Old Spalding were all as modern
as they were luxurious, and the library, living rooms, and
dining room were in the best American style. Fordy had
rebelled at too much Spanish atmosphere, his blood being straight
Anglo Saxon, and Missus Thornton always knew when to yield. Nevertheless,
(05:47):
Flora Thornton had built the proper setting for her barbaric beauty,
and possibly spirit people were sitting about the courts on
piles of colored silken cushions, those that had got themselves
up in eastern costumes, having drifted naturally to the suitable surroundings,
for after all, the moors had been Mohammedan's don't let's
(06:10):
hang round here, said the detective. And don't stand holding
yourself like a ramrod like that gent out there with
the rough that must be taking the skin off his chin.
I kind of thought I'd like to see the whole show,
but we'd best go now and wait for our little turn.
He led the way round the building to the rear
of the southwest tower. There was a little grove of
(06:31):
jasmine trees just beneath it that made the air overpower
only suite. But there were no lights on this side,
as the garages, stables, vegetable gardens and servants quarters would
have destroyed The picture. Spolding glanced about sharply, but there
was not even a strolling couple, and even the moon
was shining on the other side of the heavy mass
(06:53):
of buildings. Now listen, he said, you see this window
he indicated one directly over their heads. At exactly one o'clock,
when everybody is flocking to the supper tables on the terraces.
I expect someone to lean out of that window and
talk to someone who will be waiting just below. There
may be no talk, but I think there will be,
(07:16):
and I want you to listen to every word of
it without so much as drawing a long breath, no
matter what is said, until I grab your elbow like this.
Then I want you to put up your hand in
a hurry while I'm also attending to business. That's all
I'll say now, But by the time a few words
have been said later, I guess you'll be on. Now,
(07:38):
we must resign ourselves to a long wait without a smoke,
and to keeping perfectly still. I dare not risk coming
any later, for fear the others might be beforehand too.
Rylah ground his teeth. He felt ridiculous and humiliated. It
was no compensation that he was holding up the wall
of a stucco Moorish palace and that some three hundred
(07:59):
masks people in fancy dress were within earshot, or did
the way he was talked out make him feel all
the more absurd. The whole thing was beastly Unamerican. But
was it? After all? If he and Helene had been
here together to night, not married and harrowed, but engaged
and quick with romance. Would he have thought it absurd
(08:23):
to conspire and maneuver to separate her from the crowd
and snatch a few moments of heavenly solitude. Would he
have despised himself for suffering torments if she flouted him,
or for wanting to murder any man who balked him.
Love and all the passions creative and destructive it engendered,
all the sentiments and follies and crimes, to say nothing
(08:45):
of ambition and greed, and the lust to kill him war.
These were instincts and traits that appeared in mankind generation
after generation, in every corner, civilized and savage of the globe.
The world changed, somewhat informed during its progress, but never
in substance, and mystery and intrigue were equally a part
(09:09):
of life, as indigenous to the twelfth century as to
those days long entombed in history when the troops of
Ferdinand and Isabella sat down on the plain before Grenada.
Plot and melodrama were in every day life in sum
so briefly as hardly to be recognized in others, In
(09:30):
that of certain men and women in the public eye.
For instance, they were almost in the nature of a
continuous performance. In these days, men took a bath morning
and evening eight daintily, had a refined vocabulary to use
on demand, dressed in tweeds instead of velvet. There were
longer intervals between the old style of warfare, when men
(09:51):
were always plugging one another full of holes in the
name of religion or disputed territory, merely to amuse themselves
with a tryout of right against might, or to gratify
the insane ambition of some upstart like Napoleon. To day,
the business world was the battlefield, and it was his capital.
A man was always healing his poor brain that collapsed
(10:14):
nightly after the strain and nervous worry of the day.
It suddenly felt quite normal to be here, flattened against
the wall, waiting for some impossible denouement. Nevertheless, he was
sick with apprehension. Would it merely be the prelude to
another drama? Was his life to be a series of
unwritten plays of which he was both the hero and
(10:37):
the bewildered spectator. Or would it bring him calm the
terrible calm of stagnation of an inner life finished, sealed, buried.
It was inevitable, in these romantic surroundings and conditions, that
he should revert to his almost forgotten jealousy. Suppose Spalding
had stumbled upon something, but he had been asked for
(10:59):
no such evidence. It would be a damnable liberty. It
might be inextricably woven with the business in hand. There
were other men besides the rumors, whom Helene saw constantly scolding,
may have seen his chance to nip the thing in
the bud, and had taken the risk. He felt the
detective's lips at his ear. Hear anything, move a little,
(11:20):
says you can look up. Ryler heard his wife's voice
above him, then Eileen Lawton's. He parted the branches and
saw the two girls lean over the low sill of
the casement. Both had removed their masks, but their faces
were only dimly revealed. Their voices, however, were distinct enough,
and his wife's was dull and flat. Oh I can't,
(11:44):
she said, I can't. Well, you'll just jolly well have to.
You've got it, haven't you. Oh, yes, I've got it.
Well he'll never suspect you. I shall tell him, tell him,
you little fall and give us all away. I'd mention
no other names, as if he wouldn't probe until he
(12:05):
found out. Don't you know Price Riler yet? My father
said once he'd have made a great district attorney. What's
the use of telling him later? For that matter? Why
not now? I haven't the courage yet. I might have
one day, at just the right moment. I never thought
I was a coward. You're just a kid, That's what's
(12:26):
the matter. We ought to have left you out. I
told Polly that you couldn't. Oh, don't you see you couldn't.
That's a terrible part of it. Left me out. I'd
have found my way in. I'm not so sure you
were interested in heaps of things and in love and
all that. Oh. I'd like to excuse myself by blaming
it on being loved and tired of trying to amuse
(12:47):
myself doing nothing worth while. But it's bad blood, That's
what it is. Bad blood, and you know it if
none of the others do. Oh, I'm not one of
your hereditary fiends. When did your mother I tell you
only the other day, Well, she ought to have told
you long ago. I believe you'd have kept out. If
you'd known, wouldn't I But of course she hated to
(13:10):
tell the truth to me. Well, if i'd known that
you didn't know, I'd have told you, all right. I
warmed it out of Dad soon after you arrived, and
at first I thought it was a good joke on
society to say nothing of Price Ryler, with his air
of God having created heaven first maybe, but New York.
Just after then I got fond of you, and I
wouldn't have told for the world, but I would have
(13:33):
put you on your guard if i'd known. Oh, it
doesn't matter. Even if Price doesn't find out about this.
If he learns the other who my father was, and
that awful men have recognized my mother, I suppose he'll
hate me, and in time I'll go back to rule. Now.
You don't think as ill as that of him, do you?
(13:55):
He makes me so mad sometimes I could spit in
his face. But if he's one thing, he's true blue.
He's the straight, masculine type with a streak of old
romance that would make him love a woman. The more
the sorrier he was for her, and the weaker she was,
I mean, so long as she was young. After this
just get to work on your character. Kid, when you're thirty,
(14:16):
maybe he won't feel that it's his whole duty to
protect you. You'll never be hard and seasoned like me,
nor able to take care of yourself. I like danger
and excitement and uncertainty and mystery and intrigue and lying
and wriggling out of type places. I'd have gone mad
in this hole long ago if I hadn't for I
(14:36):
don't care for sport. But you were intended to develop
into what is called a fine woman surrounded by the
right sort of man. Meanwhile, and Price Ryler is the
right sort. I'll say that much. For him, he'd have
driven me to drink. But he's just your sort. And
what am I doing? I'm the most degraded woman in
(14:57):
the world. Oh no, you're not. Not. By a long sight.
You don't know how much worse you could be. One
woman who is here to night. I saw lying dead
drunk in the road between San Matteo and Burlingame the
other day when I was driving with Alice Thorndyke. And
Alice is having a fourth or fifth lover, I forget
which they're no worse than I. Listen, he's coming, got
(15:21):
it ready, I can't. You must. He'll hound you in
the merry tattler until the whole town knows you're a
welcher and not a soul would speak to you. That
is one unpardonable sin. I wish i'd told Price, Oh, no,
you don't. This is just a lovely way out. Glad
he had the inspiration. Hello, Nick, A man had groped
(15:44):
his way between the trees and stood just under the window.
What are you doing here, asked the Remus sourly, witness, Witness,
my dear Nick. Besides, poor Olen never would have come alone.
So there you are to hell with all this melo
dramatic business. It could have been done anywhere. Not much
dark corners for dark doings. Well, hand it over. Rayler
(16:09):
had given his brain an icy shower bath as soon
as he heard his wife's voice, and was now as
cool and alert as ever the detective could have wished.
He did not wait for the promised impulse to his elbow.
His hand shot up just ahead of do Remus's and
closed over his wife's hand, which he felt at once
(16:29):
held the ruby. At the same moment, Spolding caught Drimus
by his medieval collar and shook him until the man's
teeth chattered. Then he slapped his face and kicked him.
Now you, he said, standing over the panting man, who
was mopping his bleeding nose and holding the electric torch
so that it would shine on his own face. You
(16:51):
get out of California, do you hear? You're a gambler
and a blackmailer and a pander to old women, and
I've got some evidence that would drag you into court. However,
it turned out so you'd find this town a live gridiron.
So get while you can go while the going's good. Durreamus,
too shaken to reply, slunk off, and Spalding, after a
(17:12):
glance upward, left as silently. End of chapter twelve,
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