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Stephens, Robert Neilson, 1867-1906

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

Bagley's sole passenger.
"That was _the_ Mr. Bagley, was it?" asked Florence, as the three young
people turned into the house.
"Yes," said Larcher. "I ought to have got rid of him, I suppose. But
Edna's look was so imperative."
"I didn't know who he was, then," put in Edna.
"But after all, there was no harm in using his automobile."
"Why, he as much as accused Murray Davenport of absconding with his
money," said Florence, with a reproachful look at Edna.
"Oh, well, he couldn't understand, dear. He only knew that the money and
the man were missing. He could think of only one explanation,--men like
that are so unimaginative and businesslike. He's a bold, coarse-looking
creature. We sha'n't see anything more of him."
"I trust not," said Larcher; "but he's one of the pushful sort. He
doesn't know when he's snubbed. He thinks money will admit a man
anywhere. I'm sorry he turned up at that moment."
"So am I," said Florence, and added, explanatorily, "you know how ready
my father is to make new acquaintances, without stopping to consider."
That her apprehension was right, in this case, was shown three days
later, when Edna, calling and finding her alone, saw a bunch of great
red roses in a vase on the table.
"Oh, what beauties!" cried Edna.
"Mr. Bagley sent them," replied Florence, quickly, with a helpless,
perplexed air. "Father invited him to call."
"H'm! Why didn't you send them back?"
"I thought of it, but I didn't want to make so much of the matter.


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