Explore "The Spoils to the Victor" by J.S. Fletcher on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The man of law, bland, courtly, old-world mannered, tilted back his chair, put the tips of his fingers together and smiled at the grey-haired, hard-featured man who sat, grim and silent, on the other side of his desk.
"My dear Mr. Nelthorp! " he said, in the tone of one pronouncing a final judgment. "It doesn't matter a yard of that tape what either Sutton or his solicitors say. We know -- know, mind! -- that it is utterly impossible for him to take up the mortgages. He is at your mercy."