He would rob the safe, and get Clifford convicted for the theft; convicted as Bolton, Clifford would never tell his real name, and Lucy should enter the Cliffords' house with a certificate of his death and a certificate of his marriage, both obtained by substitution, and so collar his share of the L20,000, and off with the real husband to fresh pastures.
Lucy looked puzzled.

Hers was not a brain to disentangle such a monstrous web.
Monckton reflected a moment.

"What is the first thing?
Let me see.

Humph! I think the first thing is to get married." "Yes," said Lucy, with an eagerness that contrasted strangely with his cynical composure, "that is the first thing, and the most understandable." And she went dancing off with him as gay as a lark, and leaning on him at an angle of forty-five; whilst he went erect and cold, like a stone figure marching.
Walter Clifford came out in time to see them pass the great window.

He watched them down the street, and cursed them--not loud but deep.
"Mooning, as usual," said a hostile voice behind him.