Blake suspected nothing. He had more than once seen Mary Grant and
Ellen Harriott in Tarrong, but he was again an outcast, relegated
to the society of such as Isaacstein.
Well, he would see it out, and would yet make these people glad to
crawl to him. Ellen Harriott he never spoke to. However the case
went and whoever won, she could be of no use to him, so he decided
to include her among his enemies; and though she went deathly
white when she saw him she made no sign of recognition. There was
one thing, however, which he had to do before taking the case into
Court, and that was to secure a fair share of the spoil for himself.
He had no intention of slaving at the case, perhaps for years, for
what he would get as costs. So, a week or two before the case was
due to come on, he sent for Peggy and Red Mick.
It was a hot summer day when Peggy came in. Out of doors there
was a blinding glare, and the heat had drawn the scent out of the
unseasoned pine with which Tarrong was mostly built, till the air
was filled with a sort of incense. Peggy came in hot and short-tempered.
The strain was beginning to tell on her nerves, and, from a remark
or two she let fall, Blake saw that she might be inclined to give
trouble if not promptly brought into subjection.
"I've sent for you," he said.
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