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Stephens, Robert Neilson, 1867-1906

"The Mystery of Murray Davenport A Story of New York at the Present Day"

So I'm off to Mrs. Haze. I can
go tea-less this time, thank you. Is there anything I can do for you
on the way?"
"I'll have to send father a message about my staying here. If you would
stop at a telegraph-office--"
"Oh, that's all right," broke in Edna. "There's a call-box down-stairs.
I'll have the hall-boy attend to it. You mustn't lose a minute, Tom."
Miss Hill sped him on his way by going with him to the elevator. While
they waited for that, she asked, cautiously:
"Is there anything about this affair that you were afraid to say before
Florence?"
A thought of the twenty thousand dollars came into his head; but again
he felt that the circumstance of the money was his friend's secret, and
should be treated by him--for the present, at least--as non-existent.
"No," he replied. "I wouldn't call it a disappearance, if I were you. So
far, it's just a non-appearance. We shall soon be laughing at ourselves,
probably, for having been at all worked up over it.--She's a lovely girl,
isn't she? I'm half in love with her myself."
"She's proof against your charms," said Edna, coolly.
"I know it. What a lot she must think of him! The possibility of harm
brings out her feelings, I suppose. I wonder if you'd show such concern
if _I_ were missing?"
"I give it up. Here's the elevator. Good-by! And don't keep us in
suspense. You're a dear boy! _Au revoir!_"
With the hope of Edna's approval to spur him, besides the more unselfish
motives he already possessed, Larcher made haste upon the business.


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