"Now, I know who he is." "Who is he ?" Bailey straightened up.

He had lost his game with Chance--and the loss, coming when it did, seemed bitterer than even he had thought it could be, but before they took him away he would speak his mind.
"It's all right, Beresford," he said with a fatigue so deep that it colored his voice like flakes of iron-rust.

"I know you think you're doing your duty--but I wish to God you could have restrained your sense of duty for about three hours more!" "To let you get away ?" the young lawyer sneered, unconvinced.
"No," said Bailey with quiet defiance.

"To let me finish what I came here to do." "Don't you think you have done enough ?" Beresford's voice flicked him with righteous scorn, no less telling because of its youthfulness.

He turned back to the detective soberly enough.
"This man has imposed upon the credulity of these women, I am quite sure without their knowledge," he said with a trace of his former gallantry.