I'll bear in mind the
amount in this cheque, Mr. Betteredge, when the occasion comes round for
remembering it."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Her ladyship has smoothed matters over for the present very cleverly,"
said the Sergeant. "But THIS family scandal is of the sort that bursts
up again when you least expect it. We shall have more detective-business
on our hands, sir, before the Moonstone is many months older."
If those words meant anything, and if the manner in which he spoke them
meant anything--it came to this. My mistress's letter had proved, to
his mind, that Miss Rachel was hardened enough to resist the strongest
appeal that could be addressed to her, and that she had deceived her own
mother (good God, under what circumstances!) by a series of abominable
lies. How other people, in my place, might have replied to the Sergeant,
I don't know. I answered what he said in these plain terms:
"Sergeant Cuff, I consider your last observation as an insult to my lady
and her daughter!"
"Mr. Betteredge, consider it as a warning to yourself, and you will be
nearer the mark."
Hot and angry as I was, the infernal confidence with which he gave me
that answer closed my lips.
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