Long ago, whatever of liking, of affection, of passion he had ever entertained for her had quieted to indifference and the unemotional contemplation of a future methodically arranged for.

Now of a sudden, this young girl he had bought--he knowing what she sold and what he was paying for--had become exposed to the infection of a suspicion concerning himself and another woman; a woman unmarried, and of his own caste, and numbered among her own friends.
And he knew enough of Sylvia to know that if anybody could once arouse her suspicion nothing on earth could induce her to look into his face again.

Suppose Leila should do so this evening?
Certainly Quarrier had several matters to ponder over and provide for; and first and foremost of all to provide for his own security and the vital necessity of preserving his name and his character untainted.

In this he had to deal with that miserable judge who had betrayed him; with Mortimer, who had once black-mailed him and who now was temporarily in his service; with Mrs.Mortimer, who--God knew how, when, or where--had become suspicious of Agatha and himself; with Major Belwether, who had deserted him before he could sacrifice the major, and whom he now hated and feared for having stumbled over suspicions similar to Mrs.
Mortimer's.

He had to deal with Sylvia herself, and with Siward--reckon with Siward's knowledge of matters which it were best that Sylvia should not know.
But first of all, and most important of all, he had to deal with Beverly Plank.