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I’m the third Tony Currain.” He shook his head. “There’ve been too many of us.” Another glass of wine. “Faunt’s the best of us now,” he repeated, “Faunt and Cinda. Tilda’s a fool, and I always hated Trav, till I persuaded Mama to send him off to Chimneys and got rid of him.”
    â€œThat’s where I met him,” she remarked. “I set my cap for him, you know.”
    â€œYou? For old Trav?” He chuckled.
    â€œM-hm! We hadn’t a penny, Enid and I. What money Mr. Albion left I spent, and after that we visited and visited till we wore our welcome thin everywhere. Enid was fifteen, but I’d practically kept her in pinafores, so I could pass for thirty easily enough; but I knew I had to hurry. We were visiting at Emmy Shandon’s, and Trav was so shy and awkward that he seemed an easy catch. I led him to talk about his farming at Chimneys, and he loved it.”
    â€œCan’t imagine what you’d see in Trav.”
    â€œWhy, money, and position!” His mood for reminiscent confidences infected her. “I’d have got him, too, if it hadn’t been for Enid. She played the adoring child, and I suppose it didn’t occur to him to be afraid of her till too late. I’d persuaded him to give a party at Chimneys, and I was to play hostess for him. Enid wasn’t supposed to go, but she did over a dress of mine and put up her hair and made an appearance. She was lovely, of course; and she went to his head. Even then I could have beaten her game, I suppose; but you appeared, so I let her have him.”
    â€œThought you could marry me?”
    â€œOh, I never thought that.”
    He asked curiously: “Were you ever in love with me, Nell?”
    â€œEnough. I needed you.” She laughed lightly. “I hadn’t a penny, you see.”
    He grinned with sudden malice in his eyes. “Speaking of pennies, Nell, reminds me why I came tonight. The turn of the cards at Merrihay’s
took my last one. My last penny. And—you’re an expensive luxury, my dear.”
    The attack was so sudden that for a moment she lost her composure. “You’ve always Great Oak!”
    â€œOh, it hasn’t paid its way for years.” He laughed briefly. “Normally I’d go to Cinda’s husband. Brett Dewain’s the banker of the family, handles all the Currain money. I’ve had to stand up to his cross-examinations in the past. But now—well, he and Cinda are abroad, won’t be back till October. No, this is final, Nell.”
    There was a racing panic in her; she had so long depended on him, could not easily accept this overturn of her world, sought some expedient. “If you need money, sell some negroes South.”
    â€œWe Currains don’t sell our people.”
    â€œYou virtuous Currains!” She was frightened and angry too. “Then take Chimneys away from Trav. Enid says it’s prosperous, and it’s yours as much as his.”
    â€œIt’s Mama’s, not Trav’s,” he corrected. “She’s willed Great Oak to me, and Chimneys to Trav, and Faunt gets Belle Vue, and Cinda the Plains; but they’re all Mama’s as long as she lives. And she may live for years.”
    â€œYou can get around her!” She fought to hold him. “I’ll go to Chimneys with you.” His eyes met hers in a sardonic glance that warned her his decision was made. “But I suppose you have some other plan?” He grinned. “I see.” He was flicking her with a light lash, playing one of his cruel games, thinking she would weep, threaten, cajole. “You want to—want us to part, Tony?” He wished to savor her flattering supplications; but pride came to her rescue, steadied her tones. “Why, very well, if that’s what you want!”
    She saw that her easy assent had shaken him. From the bottle beside him he poured the last drop, tilted