Pell turned upon his wife. "Well, my dear--" he began, and once more his
lips curled at the irony of the last phrase.
"What!" Lucia said; and there was terror in her voice.
Pell did not mince words. "Having both the Option and a clearer
understanding of each other, there's nothing to detain us." He measured
everything he uttered, and watched the effect upon her.
"It's no use," Hardy broke in. "You're too late."
"Not if I got there by eight o'clock," Pell said.
"But you won't!" Jasper Hardy quickly said, glancing at the clock which
ticked on, inexorably.
Pell pulled out his watch. Then he looked at the option, deliberately,
carefully, and seemed to read a final sentence. Having done so, he tore the
piece of paper to bits slowly, and scattered them on the floor at his feet.
At that very instant the clock struck eight.
"It's eight o'clock!" "Red" exclaimed on the last peal of the bell.
"Eight o'clock!" Hardy cried. "And the place belongs to me!" He turned to
Pell. "Anything more from you?" he inquired, and smiled.
The other stared at him; but he said nothing. Instead, he went over again
to the table, and wet his handkerchief in the bowl, again refusing Lucia's
proffered assistance with a wave of his other hand.
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