Selfishness was inwoven with every fibre of his nature.
Now, as he stood with eyes fixed on Soolsby, the world seemed to narrow
down to this laboratory. It was a vacuum where sensation was suspended,
and the million facts of ordinary existence disappeared into inactivity.
There was a fine sense of proportion in it all. Only the bare essential
things that concerned him remained: David Claridge was the Earl of
Eglington, this man before him knew, Luke Claridge knew; and there was
one thing yet to know! When he spoke his voice showed no excitement--the
tones were even, colourless.
"Does he know?" In these words he acknowledged that he believed the tale
told him.
Soolsby had expected a different attitude; he was not easier in mind
because his story had not been challenged. He blindly felt working in the
man before him a powerful mind, more powerful because it faced the truth
unflinchingly; but he knew that this did not mean calm acceptance of the
consequences. He, not Eglington, was dazed and embarrassed, was not equal
to the situation.
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