And after that, if it hadn't
been for that devil with his wolves--"
"Bram ran away with her just as you were about to get her into
your hands," supplied Philip, fighting to save time. "She didn't
even know that you wanted her, Blake, so far as I can find out.
It's all a mystery to her. I don't believe she's guessed the truth
even now. How the devil did you do it? Playing the friend stunt,
eh! And keeping yourself in the background while your Kogmollocks
did the work? Was that it?"
Blake nodded. His face was darkening as he looked at Philip and
the light in his eyes was changing to a deep and steady glare. In
that moment Philip had failed to keep the exultation out of his
voice. It shone in his face. And Blake saw it. A throaty sound
rose out of his thick chest and his lips parted in a snarl as
there surged through him a realization that he had been tricked.
In that interval Philip spoke.
"If I never sent up a real prayer to God before I'm sending it
now, Blake," he said. "I'm thanking Him that you didn't have time
to harm Celie Armin, an' I'm thanking Him that Bram Johnson had a
soul in his body in spite of his warped brain and his misshapen
carcass.
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