Then came the temptation of Mrs. Poynsett's cheque, suggested,
perhaps in jest, by Vivian, but growing on them as the feasibility
of using it became clear. It was so easy to make it appear to
Archie Douglas that the letter was simply an inquiry for the lost
one. Mr. Proudfoot, the father, was out of reach; Mrs. Poynsett
would continue to think the cheque lost in the post; and Tom Vivian
undertook to get it presented for payment through persons who would
guard against its being tracked. The sum exceeded the debt, but he
would return the overplus to them, and they both cherished the hope
of returning it with interest. Indeed, it had been but a half
consent on the part of either, elicited only by the dire alternative
of exposure; the envelope and letter were destroyed, and Vivian
carried off the cheque to some of the Jews with whom he had had only
too many transactions, and they never met him again.
Moy's part all along had been half cowardice, half ambition. The
sense of that act and of its consequences had gnawed at his heart
through all his success; but to cast himself down from his position
as partner and son-in-law of Mr.
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