I have been in that joint on Forty-eighth
Street--I'll admit that. But, you know, I'm no gambler. I've gone
simply to see the life, and--well, it has no attraction for me.
Racing cars and motorboats don't go with poker chips and the red
and black--not with me. As for the other place, I don't know any
more about it than--than you do," he concluded vehemently.
Warrington faced Garrick, his steel-blue eye unwavering. "You see,
it's like this," he resumed passionately, "since this vice
investigation began, I have read a lot about landlords. Then,
too," he interjected with a mock wry face, "I knew that Violet's
Aunt Emma had been a crusader or something of the sort. You see,
virtue is NOT its own reward. I don't get credit even for what I
intended to do--quite the contrary."
"How's that?" asked Garrick, respecting the young man's temper.
"Why, it just occurred to me lately to go scouting around the
city, looking at the Warrington holdings, making some personal
inquiries as to the conditions of the leases, the character of the
tenants, and the uses to which they put the properties.
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