"And so," Guion concluded, "I don't see how I could accept this money
from you. Any honorable man--that is," he corrected, in some confusion,
"any _sane_ man--would tell you as much."
"I've already considered what the sane man and the honorable man would
tell me. I guess I can let them stick to their opinion so long as I have
my own."
"And what _is_ your opinion? Do you mind telling me? You understand that
what you're proposing is immoral, don't you?"
"Yes--in a way."
Guion frowned. He had hoped for some pretense at contradiction.
"I didn't know whether you'd thought of that."
"Oh yes, I've thought of it. That is, I see what you mean."
"It's compounding a felony and outwitting the ends of justice and--"
"I guess I'll do it just the same. It doesn't seem to be my special job
to look after the ends of justice; and as for compounding a
felony--well, it'll be something new."
Guion made a show of looking at him sharply. The effort, or the
pretended effort, to see through Davenant's game disguised for the
moment his sense of humiliation at this prompt acceptance of his own
statement of the case.
"All the same," he observed, trying to take a detached, judicial tone,
"your offer is so amazing that I presume you wouldn't make it unless you
had some unusual reason.
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