And in his brusque ending of the matter Quarrier detected the ringing undertone of an authority he never had and never would endure; and though his pale, composed features betrayed not the subtlest shade of emotion, he was aware that a new element had come into his life--a new force was growing out of nothing to confront him, an unfamiliar shape loomed vaguely ahead, throwing its huge distorted shadow across his path.

He sensed it with the instinct of kind for kind, not because Plank's millions meant anything to him as a force; not because this lumbering, red-faced meddler had blundered into a family affair where confidence consisted in joining hands lest a pocket be inadvertently picked; not because Plank had knocked at the door, expecting treachery to open, and had found it, but because of the awful simplicity of the man and his methods.
If Plank suspected him, he must also suspect him of complicity in the Inter-County grab; he must suspect him of the ruthless crushing power that corrupts or annihilates opposition, making a mockery of legislation, a jest of the courts, and an epigram of a people's indignation.
And yet, in the face of all this, careless, fearless, frank to the outer verge of stupidity--which sometimes means the inability to be afraid--this man Plank was casually telling him things which men regard as secrets and as weapons of defence--was actually averting him of his peril, and telling him almost contemptuously to pull up the drawbridge and prepare for siege, instead of rushing the castle and giving it to the sack.
As Quarrier sat there meditating, his long, white fingers caressing his soft, pointed beard, Sylvia came in, greeting the men collectively with a nod, and offering her hand to Plank.
"Dinner is announced," she said; "please go in farm fashion.

Wait!" as Plank, following the major and Quarrier, stood aside for her to pass.
"No, you go ahead, Howard; and you," to the major.
Left for a moment in the room with Plank, she stood listening to the others descending the stairs; then: "Have you seen Mr.Siward ?" "Yes," said Plank.
"Oh! Is he well ?" "Not very." "Is he well enough to read a letter, and to answer one ?" "Oh, yes; he's well enough in that way." "I supposed so.

That is why I said to you, over the wire, not to trouble him with my request." "You mean that I am not to say anything about your offer to buy the hunter ?" "No.

If I make up my mind that I want the horse I'll write him--perhaps." Lingering still, she let one hand fall on the banisters, turning back toward Plank, who was following: "I understood you to mean that--that Mr.Siward's financial affairs were anything but satisfactory ?"--the sweet, trailing, upward inflection making it a question.
"When did I say that ?" demanded Plank.
"Once--a month ago." "I didn't," said Plank bluntly.
"Oh, I had inferred it, then, from something you said, or something you were silent about.