Ashes to Ashes by Isabel Ostrander

Storm realized later when the dawn brought coherency of thought that it was blind instinct alone, not conscious will, which had enabled him to shield the death blow that had been given him from George Holworthy's peering eyes. The crumbling of his air castles had left him stunned, and he remembered nothing of the rest of the interview save that George had moralized interminably and in leaving at last had harked back to the Millard boy. Surely he would not have droned on of trivialities had he gleaned an inkling of the tumult in his host's brain!

Until the morning light stole in at the windows Storm paced the floor in a frenzy of consternation. He had one slender hope: that the false Du Chainat would be apprehended. If he appeared against the scoundrel or entered a complaint the resultant revelation of how easily he had been fleeced would be a bitter pill to swallow. Old Langhorne would recall that conversation of the previous day, and it would be his turn to smile, while Foulkes and George would descend upon him with galling criticism and reproach.