"Edith!" he called softly.
She answered him with a little laugh. She was almost by his side. He
took a quick step forward. She was standing among the deepest shadows,
against the trunk of the cedar tree, her slim body leaning slightly
against it. It seemed to him that her face was whiter, her eyes softer
than ever. He took her hand in his.
She smiled.
"You must not come out to me here," she whispered. "Mr. Bomford will
not like it. It is most improper."
"But it may be our good-bye," he pleaded. "They want me to do
something, Mr. Bomford and your father, something hideous, utterly
grotesque. I have refused and they are very angry."
"What is it that they want you to do?"
"Dear," he answered, "you, I am sure, will understand. They want me to
give them one of my beans. They want to make some wretched drug or
medicine from it, to advertise it all over the world, to amass a great
fortune."
"Are you in earnest?" she cried.
"Absolutely," he assured her. "It is Mr. Bomford's scheme. He says
that it would mean great wealth for all of us. Your father, too,
praises it. He, too, seemed to come--for the moment, at any rate--under
the curse. He, too, is greedy for money."
"And you?" she whispered.
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