At that moment Keith smiled, a smile that had in it all the sweetness
of his youth. It softened his father's mood, though it could not
change it.
"I'm afraid I can't afford to pay your price, my boy."
He was the first to turn away.
And Keith understood too thoroughly to condemn. That was it. His
father couldn't pay his price. The question was, could he afford to
pay it himself?
As the great swinging doors closed behind him, he realized that
whatever price he had paid for it, he had redeemed his soul. And he
had bought his liberty.
CHAPTER XXXV
Really, as Miss Harden's solicitor pointed out to her in the presence
of Miss Palliser, things looked very black against the young man. It
was clear, from the letter Mr. Schofield had received from Mr.
Jewdwine that morning, that the library was worth at least three times
the amount these Rickmans had paid for it. Barring the fact that sale
by private contract was irregular and unsatisfactory, he completely
exonerated Mr. Pilkington from all blame in the matter. His valuation
had evidently been made in all good faith, if in some ignorance. But
the young man, who by Pilkington's account had been acting all along
as his father's agent, must have been perfectly aware of the nature of
the bargain he had made. There was every reason to suppose that he had
known all about the bill of sale before he came down to Harmouth; and
there could be no doubt he had made use of his very exceptional
opportunities to inform himself precisely of the value of the books he
was cataloguing.
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