Not written after 1922, can't find the exact copyright date at this time.
I think one thing this story needed was a good editor. The same kinds of things I find and quickly delete in my own work.
To me, this passage would have been far more effective if the dramatic voice had been toned down:
He dropped into a chair, burying his face in his hands, and the utter despair in his voice tore at Ann's heart. What had happened--what could have happened that Tony should seek to take his own life? Mechanically she stooped to replace the revolver in the opened drawer from which he had evidently taken it. A few loose cartridges still lay there, together with some torn scraps of paper and a blank cheque. Almost unconsciously her glance took in the contents of the drawer. Then suddenly it checked--concentrated. She caught her breath sharply and looked at Tony, a horrified, incredulous question in her eyes. But he was still sitting with his head buried in his hands, silent and motionless.
Very slowly, as though she approached her hand to something nauseous and abhorrent, Ann reached out and withdrew one of the torn sheets of paper and stared at it. It was covered with repeated copyings of a single name--sometimes the whole name, sometimes only one or other of the initial letters to it. And the name which some one was taking such pains to learn to write was that of her godfather, Philip Brabazon... Philip Brabazon... the sheet was covered with it, and some of the signatures were a very fair imitation of the old man's handwriting.
Ann snatched up the blank cheque. It was one that had been torn from Sir Philip's cheque-book. She could see that at a glance--remembered so clearly noticing the same heading on the cheque which he had given her towards her trousseau--the Watchester and Loamshire Bank. She held out to Tony the two pieces of paper--the sheet of scribbled signatures and the blank cheque.
"Tony," she said, her voice cracking a little. "What--what are these?"
The tense, vibrating horror in her tones roused him. He looked up wearily. Then, as he saw what she held, a dull red flush mounted slowly to his face. For a moment he did not speak. When he did, his voice sounded dead--flat and toneless.
"Those," he said, "are attempts on my part to forge my uncle's signature."
There are many moments like this in the story. The characters ask obvious questions or parrot back what someone just said. It makes them seem stupid. I know when I write I don't even notice myself doing it, and I do it a lot, but when I edit, I find those lines and delete them.
I disliked many things about this story, but the lesson I learned is that no matter how much the reader may dislike the characters, situations or even prose style, when the plot drives, the reader will still read. I think this story had a very good plot. The beginning introduces the problem which reaches throughout the whole story, and the problem is solved unexpectedly at the end. I was actually very surprised and pleased by the ending. I didn't think it would be very satisfying. There were many characters and tangled relationships, and they were all tied into the ending.
I had so little sympathy for one of the reaching dilemmas. The character quoted above, Tony, has a terrible gambling addiction which is certainly not solved at the end of the story, unless you consider having a friend pay his enormous debt a solution. Ann risks her love relationship to pay Tony's debt. The unexpected part is that her fiance finds out what she does and proves that he trusts her faithfulness, so if she had not endeavored to help Tony she might not ever have learned this. I mean, this story is not like real life, but if you think they way the story does, you can appreciate the ending.
I really cringed when Tony's debts were paid. The author doesn't mention what happened to him, probably for the best, since she seemed aware that reforming him was far beyond the scope of her novel.
Something else kind of off is that Eliot, Ann's fiance, was hurt by a woman who left him because he was poor. She broke off their engagement and married a rich man. However the perilous situations that Ann gets herself into put her fidelity into question, not her greed, so I don't understand why it touches his nerve so badly. It seems like a stretch, but I guess I don't know. Maybe the author knew someone like that.