Hawkehurst's papers."
After some further discussion, Valentine agreed to leave the whole matter
in Mr. Greenwood's hands. Greek must meet Greek. Gray's Inn and the
Fields must settle this business between themselves.
"I am only prince consort," he said, with a smile. "I pretend to no
actual interest in my wife's estate. I doubt, indeed, whether I should
not have felt more complete happiness in our marriage if she had not been
heiress to so large a fortune."
At this Mr. Greenwood laughed outright.
"Come, come, Mr. Hawkehurst," he exclaimed, "that really won't do. I am
an old stager, you know--a man of the world;--and you mustn't ask me to
believe that the idea of your wife's expectations can afford you anything
but unqualified satisfaction."
"You cannot believe? No, perhaps not," Valentine answered, thoughtfully.
"But you do not know how nearly these expectations have lost me my wife.
And even now, when she is mine by virtue of a bond that only death can
loosen, it seems to me as if her wealth would make a kind of division
between us. There are people who will always consider me a lucky
adventurer, and look at my marriage as the result of clever scheming. I
cannot advertise to the world the fact that I loved Charlotte Halliday
from the first hour in which I saw her, and asked her to be my wife three
days before I discovered her claim to John Haygarth's estate.
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