They invariably live to a green old
age--green like the bay-tree."
"I--have gotten very much interested in his story," said Queed, which
was certainly true enough. "Where do people think that he is now?"
"Oh, in the West somewhere, living like a fat hog off Miss Weyland's
money."
Queed's heart lost a beat. An instinct, swift as a reflex, turned him
to the window again; he feared that his face might commit treason. A
curious contraction and hardening seemed to be going on inside of him, a
chilling petrifaction, and this sensation remained; but in the next
instant he felt himself under perfect control, and was calmly saying:--
"Why, I thought the courts took all the money he had."
"They took all they could find. If you've studied high finance you'll
appreciate the distinction." Amiably West tapped the table-top with the
long point of his pencil, and wished that Queed would restore him his
privacy. "Everybody thought at the time, you know, that he had a hundred
thousand or so put away where the courts never got hold of it. The
general impression was that he'd somehow smuggled it over to the woman
he'd been living with--his wife", he said.
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